


Under Another Sky (Re-edited)

by melianthegreat



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Sex, Drama, Epic Friendship, Face-Fucking, Facials, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-07-12 05:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melianthegreat/pseuds/melianthegreat
Summary: Some say you live in two worlds, the waking world and a dream world. But which is which? What if you could go to the other world...or the other world is trying to send you back?





	1. Another You, Another Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schuneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schuneko/gifts).



> This is an epic I've been thinking about for a long time and finally felt confident enough to try. Section Titles are from the song "Another World" by Brian May, a love song that says in a different world two people are a couple while they're not here. Check it out.
> 
> Special thanks to Schuneko, who helped with advice on how to get from Point A to Point B. Sometimes it's a matter of seeing the pathway between two places. This is gifted to you.
> 
> These sections can take a bit to read, and maybe a bit to post.

_He could still feel Mindy: her body against his, hands in his hair as her back arched, screaming out his name as her internal muscles rippled and squeezed him tightly. All those years together, two daughters now young adults, and they still couldn't get enough of each other. Especially since work kept him away from home for long periods. This was the way it had been since early in their marriage, he was still coming home for short stays then they were apart again. He was leaving again for another trip, but Mindy couldn't fault him. He was doing what he loved as much as he loved her, and his happiness made these days home all the more special._

_He had delayed leaving for as long as possible. So this time he was flying the helicopter from Wales to just outside London. He would land at the heliport and have some routine maintenance done during his trip. It was important to keep them maintained, since helicopters tended to fall out of the sky if something broke. The best way to keep something from breaking was to make sure it was all in good working order._

_"I love you," Mindy had said softly, then gave him a kiss. It was a promise of what was to come when he returned. He kissed her back the same way, a promise he would indeed return. Then he walked out to the helicopter, made his preparations, and took off for London._

_The weather was perfect for flying--clear skies, calm breeze. His mind kept going back to Mindy. Sometimes it was hard to leave, hard to walk out the door when all that love was at home. The one who complained the most wasn't her, however. There were times when he honestly wasn't sure how much longer he wanted to keep doing this, it's not like they needed the money, and the job had cost him dearly with lifelong injuries both seen and unseen. Every time he came close to finally saying Enough, he'd realized he loved his life and his job and his mates the way things were._

_He snapped to attention. A wandering mind wasn't good for flying a helicopter. He'd be at the heliport soon.That's when the trouble began. There was a loud noise, like something broke. "Oh God," he muttered. Then there was almost no response from the controls. "No. No no no no no." He fought for control, knowing a controlled landing was what he needed; anything less was too dangerous, too likely to kill him. "Come on. COME ON! COME ON!!" The helicopter began to spin toward the ground, along with a beeping alarm. The helicopter was coming down in an open field. From outside lights were flashing, but he didn't know from where: was that the sun? Was he spinning so unbelievably fast now he was a dead man the second he hit the ground? Was there time to save it? The light flashed brighter and faster. He braced himself._

_He screamed._

"Richard? Rich, wake up! Wake up!!"

Richard became aware that he was indeed screaming, opening his eyes in a dark room. It was nighttime. Strong arms were wrapping around him, pulling him close. A deep voice whispering, "It's okay, it's okay. You're safe. You're here with me. You're alright."

Richard was in his bed, and James was next to him. He suddenly felt all the tension unleash as James' arms held him tightly, causing him to shudder. His heart thundered in his chest, beating so hard it felt as if he'd been in a flat run for miles. "I was in the 'copter," he gasped, James holding his face in his hands. "Something broke loose...I lost control. I started spinning. I tried to hold it..." Richard began shaking again.

James kissed his forehead. "It was a nightmare, a pretty bad one sounds like," he reassured. "But it's not real. You're here with me." James grabbed the cup of water on the nightstand and offered it, rubbing Richard's back soothingly as several sips were taken. "Do you feel better?" Richard nodded. "Good. Lie back down with me."

They settled back into bed together, James pulling Richard against his body. "Sorry I woke you up, James," Richard whispered. "But it was so real..."

"No worries, Hammond," James whispered back. "You don't have them often, but when you do it's my turn to take care of you." He kissed the side of Richard's head tenderly. "Go back to sleep. You're safe in my arms." He waited for Richard to settle down; soon he could hear Richard's breath even out as he drifted off. "No more bad dreams," he said softly.

***

"Bad night?" Jeremy asked James as he sat down in the DriveTribe office the next morning. "Or long night?"

James nursed his cup of tea, looking for all the world like the truth of his situation: a profound lack of sleep. Richard had entered earlier, heading straight for the coffee, looking about as rough as James. "Bad dream--his, not mine. Kept me up to make sure it didn't happen again."

"Must have been terrible, judging the way Hammond looks," Jeremy replied. "Not that he's much of a looker anyway."

"Fuck off, Clarkson," Richard grumbled in answer as he sat down. "The dream was bad enough, but there are elements to it I find interesting. A bright, flashing light, for one. And apparently I was with someone else. Sorry, James."

James grinned slightly. Over the years Richard had remained faithful to him, which put early insecurities to rest. "You can dream of someone else, Hammond," he rolled his eyes. "I'm not _that_ jealous."

Even so, James appeared withdrawn hours later after he returned home. Richard noticed. "Penny for your thoughts?" He asked.

James grinned slightly as he sat on the bed. "Half a penny," he replied. "I don't mean to sound insecure, Rich, but I do wonder what it really means for you to be dreaming of being with a woman after all this time. It makes me wonder if maybe you regret choosing to be with me."

Richard's response was to sit on the bed next to James, drawing him closer. "James," he whispered softly. "I don't know why I had that dream, but I promise you, it's not because I regret being with you. I kissed you, and I made love to you, and I married you. I certainly don't regret that." He gave James a soft, deep kiss, his tongue parting James' lips easily and exploring his mouth. "Let me convince you," Richard whispered as he pushed James gently backward and then hovered over him, staring down into his husband's deep blue eyes.

The next kiss Richard and James shared was a little more heated, and each successive kiss contained more passion. Richard removed James' shirt, running his hands over his bare chest, watching James as he shut his eyes and enjoyed the touch. Richard followed with his lips and tongue, hearing James give a soft moan as Richard grinned in satisfaction. As he removed James ' pants, leaving him naked, Richard knew he wanted James to never doubt his desire ever again.

Richard moved lower, running his tongue down the pleasure trail, feeling James lovingly trying to push him down faster. Instead, Richard decided to take his time with the movement, first to the hollow of one hip, then the other. Finally he made it to the area James really wanted: Richard's fingers began to gently touch and fondle the scrotum, and the sensitive skin there, eliciting a much louder, telling moan from James. Before James could even formulate begging for it, Richard's fingers were replaced by his mouth, taking each of his balls into the mouth and lightly sucking, licking around them with his tongue. James felt his body nearly jump off the bed. Richard was driving him crazy and knew it, the bastard, and just like the bastard he was begging was only going to make James wait longer. So he took a deep breath and relaxed while Richard continued.

Richard came back up and took a good look at James' cock, now at full attention. James was looking at him intently, his blue eyes black, pupils blown open wide with lust. Beads of precum were forming at the head. James' skin was flushed and there was something about his look that told Richard this man was just barely holding onto control. Richard could feel his own fire burn hotter at the sight. He summoned all the patience he could muster, then reached down to lick up and down the firm shaft. James felt himself thrust upwards in response. Richard placed the head in his mouth, suckling softly, using the flat of his tongue to press on the underside, and watched James' eyes roll to the back of his head. He took more and more of James into his mouth, his own desire mounting as he heard James whispering nonsensical words, occasionally peppered with words that he did understand, like _yes_ and _like that_ and _fuck_ and various other obscenities. Richard set up a rhythm: short thrusts with his mouth, a longer move of sliding James' cock out of his mouth, then sucking hard on the head, occasionally reaching up to plant a deep kiss on his mouth, raking his fingers down James' body as he went back down on him. All the while James responded with not only words but gestures: holding the back of Richard's head, trying to guide him deeper, moans, hisses, gasping. His body began to shake as his body strained to hold itself back, trying to stretch out the pleasure Richard's mouth was giving him.

Richard, meanwhile, was feeling uncomfortably hard in his own jeans, his desire to pleasure James making him ignore his own need. It wasn't helping that James was making all the outward signs of such immense pleasure from him, the sounds, the flush of his skin, his eyes dark and faraway, the trembling of his body. Richard was close, he knew it. But he knew James was closer. So now it was a challenge to hold back for James to fall over the edge first.

And he did. There was a sudden gasp from James and his cock grew larger in Richard's mouth. Then came a flurry of words that fell out in a rush, rising in pitch and volume: _Oh, Rich, fuck! Oh SHIT! Oh Dear GOD I'M GONNA COME!!_ Richard could feel James' entire body tense, his hips arching, Richard sucked him hard, his hands sliding underneath to grab James' bottom to force him deeper. Then the tension broke. With a loud, low shuddering groan, James emptied himself into Richard's mouth and down his throat. Richard swallowed more than once, then suddenly he felt a rush of wet heat filling the crotch of his jeans, the intensity of his own orgasm causing his eyes to cross. He whimpered around the softening cock in his mouth, his own body burning but not sure he could move, until he was finally able to slide downward. He rode it out, face-down on the bed, James desperately trying to catch his breath just above him. Somehow Richard had the presence of mind to roll off of James to not crush him with his own weight.

A few moments later, Richard became dimly aware of a large hand gently playing with the hair on top of his head. James looked down at him, a face of tired satisfaction, and patted the space next to him on the bed. Richard weakly crawled up and deposited himself there, both kissing the other deeply. James ended the kiss and took in Richard's glowing face. "You--uh....you..." He glanced down meaningfully.

"Yes, I did," Richard answered, knowing what James meant. "I couldn't control myself."

James grinned. "Good to realize I can still be a part of that happening," he muttered. "But maybe you should get those in the hamper before it gets too sticky and it hurts to take them off."

"Good idea," Richard replied with a smile, heading for the bedroom door. A minute later he returned, now completely naked. "One thing's for sure, we're definitely doing laundry tomorrow," he announced. James still lay in the same spot on the bed, apparently finding it difficult to move himself. Richard arched an eyebrow at him. "Now, does that answer your earlier question?" he asked, " the one about regretting being with you? " He grabbed James and pulled him to a sitting position. "Come on," he urged. "We both need a shower before sleeping."

***

_Richard sat on the patio on one of the few truly beautiful days there were in Wales--warm, golden sunlight, no rain, not even clouds, the sky a glorious shade of blue--and stared out at the countryside. Wales was always beautiful, even under clouds and cold rain, one of the reasons he and Mindy had chosen this place. But days like today made up for every single day he cursed the foul weather, and they had a perfect spot to sit and sip wine and look out at everything._

_Mindy emerged from the house with a bottle of their favorite red and two glasses. Richard took the items from her as she smiled and sat beside him. "The video is posted," Mindy told him._

_"What do you think?" Richard asked. He'd shot a video earlier showing he was so bored he drove his Lagonda to the local shop simply to buy a cup of Pot Noodle._

_"That was really funny," Mindy answered as Richard poured the wine and handed her a glass. "Izzy got a real kick out of it, it shows that you're really bored."_

_"Hence the name of the YouTube channel," Richard replied, taking a sip. "What does Willow say?"_

_"Willow says James' new video is funnier."_

_Richard looked over to Mindy. "James posted a new video?"_

_"Oh, yes," Mindy answered knowingly, taking another sip. "Apparently he got so much attention after he posted the Shepherd's Pie video, he's posted one about poaching eggs." She began to giggle._

_"What's so funny about poaching eggs?"_

_"It's not the egg poaching that Willow finds so funny," Mindy replied. "It's that James insists in the video this is the way YOU like them." She giggled again. "It's certainly not going to stop the speculation on whether you and James have something going on."_

_"May likes to subtly tweak noses, doesn't he?" Richard stated. "There is some interesting fanfiction out there about it. Did you know there's a story about you, me, and James having a threesome?"_

_Mindy nearly spit out her wine. "What?!"_

_"Oh, yes," Richard answered matter-of-factly. "I come home, the girls are at school. You're all dressed up for me. We get ready for some 'afternoon delight', then you have James come out from where he'd been hiding. You two had been discussing the matter. You were such a minx in that story I got the impression maybe you 'auditioned' him first."_

_Mindy threw back her head and laughed hard. "Have you ever seen a foursome in the fanfiction? You, me, James, and Sarah? Or Jeremy and Francie? Especially with that holiday we spent with them on the Isle of Man?"_

_Richard paused a moment. 'I don't think so, " he answered. "In fact I'm trying to work out the height differences and I can't make it work in my own head. Besides," he added, reaching over to grab Mindy's hand, "I thought Jezza was excluded from any discussions about sex. Too terrifying."_

_"And it's my own rule, too. Sorry." Mindy stepped over to Richard and gave him a kiss, sweet and warm. Richard pulled her closer, caressing her face. These months together at home had been special, the longest they'd spent in their entire marriage outside of his convalescence, and now he needed to tell her that was about to come to an end. It was a look on his face that Mindy could see. "What is it?" she asked._

_"Jezza called," Richard answered after a moment, studying her face carefully. "Amazon has accepted our offer. Which means, technically, we're not unemployed anymore."_

_"But that also means," she began slowly, "that you're back to traveling and not being here much."_

_Richard nodded and bit his lip slightly. "Look, Mind, it's not official until we sign the contract," he told her. "It's not like it was at the BBC--all four of us have an equal say now. If any of us want out the others arrange to buy them out. And you and I have enough money for even our future grandchildren to live comfortably the rest of our lives. If you want I can always --"_

_"Is this what you really want to do?" Mindy asked. At first Richard wasn't sure he understood the question. "Forget about us for a moment," Mindy continued. "These are three of your best mates. You left lifetime job security for each other. But I understand age and life can make you not really want to face this again. But you have to ask yourself: am I really over it? Am I still wanting to explore and find new places in the world? Because if you are done, you know I'll be here. But if you still find you still have that desire within you...then you know I'll be here, too."_

_Richard couldn't help but give Mindy a slow, full smile. "I love you," he said, caressing her cheek and giving her a deep kiss. He picked her up in a hug and they spun around together._

_Then he saw it out of the corner of his eye: a bright, flashing light. Richard stopped spinning Mindy and set her down. "Rich?" she asked, confusion on her face. "What is it?" The light continued to grow, flashing harder. Richard could barely see her now..._

"Mindy?" he whispered as he woke up. It was morning. James was just getting out of bed, but at the mention of the name he turned to face Richard. Richard expected from last night to see worry or even insecurity on his face, but instead all he saw was confusion.

"Mindy?" James asked. "You dreamt of Mindy?"

Richard sat up. "Yeah," he answered slowly. "I was telling her about getting the deal with Amazon. I was having some doubt. She said no matter what she'd stay with me."

" ...stay with you, " James finished at the same time. He sat down on the bed. "That's what I said when we found out Amazon accepted our deal. You weren't sure if you were still up to traveling around the world. I wasn't sure, either. We both decided no matter what we'd stay together. If one of us decided after a season it was done and wanted a buyout or not, we'd be together." He looked away, appearing stunned and trying to piece things together. "Rich, the dream you had the other night, the woman...was that Mindy, too?"

"Yes," Richard answered. "I believe it was. And there was the flashing light again."

James looked concerned. "Why are you dreaming of Mindy now?" He asked, almost to himself. "And why are you dreaming of a lifetime with her? You're having conversations with her that we've had."

"Oh, it gets even better, " Richard chuckled. "In both dreams I have daughters with her. They're both grown up, but I'm definitely a father."

"Richard, that's impossible," James whispered in shock. "You can't have children by Mindy...she died just after telling you she was pregnant."


	2. The Way We've Come to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tells the story of how Richard and James got together. Secrets are revealed.
> 
> This was a long chapter so it's broken into two parts.

When Richard and James got together, Richard Hammond was in danger of a downward spiral.

Richard had met Mindy at a PR firm. He had done his time in Local Radio Hell, covering swim meets and community bake sales and playing the same tired music over and over. He'd decided he wanted to do something else, something that would allow him to eat more than Pot Noodle, baked beans, or macaroni for supper every night. The PR job would at least allow him to include cheese sandwiches into the mix, so he took it.

At first Richard had been afraid to speak to Mindy, she was so beautiful. There had been other guys at the PR firm who'd tried to ask her out and she'd politely turned them down. It wasn't out of contrariness or being overly picky; she simply knew what she wanted and what to expect from someone. And the day she accepted Richard's offer of a date was a day Richard felt he had been truly blessed by God. The same when he'd proposed.

When Richard and Mindy got married he had gotten involved with a car program called _Men & Motors_. He was full of determination and dreams: he was doing what he loved, the woman he loved by his side, and he felt that he could do just about anything. Even get a few inches taller. The only thing that kept it from being absolutely perfect was having a child. So he was completely over the moon when, just a few months after their wedding, Mindy told Richard she was pregnant. Others fretted over how soon it was, that they hadn't had time to enjoy each other as newlyweds, but they didn't care. There was going to be a little one, an expression of their love for each other, the blessing God had conveyed when Richard finally got up enough courage to ask Mindy out on a date and she'd said yes.

A couple of weeks later, Richard was driving home to Gloucestershire in the late afternoon. It was a beautiful Spring day, the freewheeling U2 song "Wild Honey" was playing on the radio, and Richard was singing along:

 _If you go there, go with me, wild honey_.  
_Won't you take me, take me please, wild honey?_  
_Yeah, swinging through the trees, wild honey_.

He was happy, and the song reflected how he felt. Mindy, however, was feeling the effects of Morning Sickness. Even though his current job was allowing him to come home at a decent hour, he was making it a point to come home earlier to take care of her. Mindy had to frequently remind Richard she wasn't a delicate little butterfly with gossamer wings, that women had been having babies for millions of years, but he wanted to make sure she wanted for nothing. He pulled up outside, seeing her Range Rover in the drive, and felt the warmth of Home slotted in a space somewhere near his heart.

"Mindy?" Richard called when he entered the house and found no answer. He smiled in sympathy, figuring that she must be having a nap, which her doctor said she may feel she needs during her pregnancy. But when he walked back to the bedroom she wasn't there. Perhaps she had gone for a walk, or to visit a neighbour, he thought. He headed to the kitchen to make himself some tea, or maybe sneak a couple of biscuits while waiting for his wife to return.

Richard saw the mug sitting on their kitchen island. Inside was tea, untouched and cold. This was odd, Richard thought; Mindy would never make herself tea and then not drink it. He grabbed the mug and walked around to the other side of the island to place it in the sink. That's when he found her. She was crumpled on the floor, collapsed. Her eyes were open and unmoving.

Richard was unaware that the mug he held had crashed to the floor and shattered. All he could see was the woman he loved, who was carrying their baby, and she was lying on the floor and not moving. " _AMANDA!!_ " he cried out, using her formal name, kneeling by her side. "Mindy! Sweetheart? Baby, can you hear me?" He felt for a pulse and found none. "Oh God," he gasped. "Oh dear God, no, please no!" By the time 999 was called his hysterical screams had been heard by neighbours and they came rushing over to the house.

Richard was interviewed by police for hours, who tried to be as sensitive as possible and yet conduct a death investigation. They finally concluded there was no sign of Foul Play, no sign of forced entry, nothing disturbed, interviews with neighbours spoke of nothing but a young couple happily married and looking forward to a first child. The medical examination revealed a brain aneurysm and hemorrhage, that she had probably been dead for several hours, and there had been nothing Richard could have done to save her.

***

When Richard auditioned for and got the job on the revamped version of _Top Gear_ , he had been widowed about six months. Once again he needed a change in his life; _Men & Motors_ reminded him too much of what happened to Mindy, so he jumped at the opportunity to audition when he heard Andy Wilman and Jeremy Clarkson wanted to bring it back to the BBC. He really wanted the job, even without the additional circumstances, and figured that by wanting it he would never get it. Even so, he was done with _M &M_ because of everything. He'd put the house in Gloucestershire up for sale and had taken a flat in London, hoping something new would happen. 

They had stumbled their way through the first season when James came on board. All three had a chemistry that was completely natural and inimitable. Richard and Jeremy were more chummy in the beginning than Richard and James, but that was both a combination of James being a bit more reserved and shy, and Richard and Jeremy had been together on-air longer. Still, as James got to know his colleagues better, it became apparent that nobody discussed Richard's private life, it was an area out of bounds. He had plenty of female company, and he was good looking enough to apparently get laid on a regular basis, and it was clear he had once been married, so there was no reason to pry. So James didn't. He watched as Richard would show up with various women on his arm, sometimes leaving a pub crawl with one, only to show up the very next morning with a completely different one. But with these interactions James could sense an underlying loneliness, that somehow he was trying to fill a void and his female companions could never completely fill the hole that had opened up in his life.

Richard ended up telling James the entire story quite unexpectedly one night. It had been Jeremy's birthday celebration in April, a night of carousing that saw Jeremy nearly cause a Pier 6 brawl in a pub, James being handed some phone numbers from those who found him rather attractive, and Richard actually turning down an offer from a rather lovely woman because he was out with his mates, and then having to get more assertive when she simply wouldn't accept his answer. By the time they made it back to James' home, all three were past drunk and wandering into the realm of We're-not-going-to-remember-this-in-the-morning. The birthday boy promptly staggered upstairs to sleep it off in the guest bedroom, leaving Hammond and May downstairs in the kitchen.

"Coffee or tea to sober up, Hammond?" James slurred. "I'd offer you some beer, or maybe wine, but at this point I think you'll be drunk for days on what you had already."

"From the man who spent tonight doing a damn good imitation of a sponge," Richard countered, also slurring. Richard leaned back in the chair while James put the kettle on for tea. "This turned out to be a night to remember," he announced triumphantly, "assuming we do actually remember. You made out well."

"I think most of these are in hope I'll somehow introduce them to you," James replied.

"Now that's pretty pessimistic," Richard stated.

"That's pretty much Reality, Hammond," James answered back. He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm pretty much used to it, though. I was always the supportive friend in the background. I think in America I'd be called a Wingman. Guys like you pull the birds. Guys like me...well, we steer the best birds your way." There was a moment of silence as the kettle whistled and James poured the water, handing Richard a mug.

"Just as long as you keep a few good birds back for yourself, mate," Richard told him as he sipped his tea. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother."

James smiled. "Yeah, I saw that woman," he said. "She did everything but drop to the floor and present herself to you for mating, and you turned her down. I came close to asking if you were feeling unwell."

"Tonight was about you and Jezza," Richard shrugged, slightly defensive. "Then she just got pushy. And handsy. I wasn't in the mood." There was a pause. "I think I might be getting tired of the games and I want someone who might want to play by a different set of rules."

"I guess I know about playing by a different set of rules," James muttered. Richard overheard and his head snapped up in attention. "I studied music at University. My favorite music is Bach. My true passions are Science and Engineering and Technology. My attitude suggests I was born in the 18th Century. I love both Ferraris and Porsches, along with my Bentley, and the Fiat Panda. And if I ever come to power I want to execute the Royal Family, anyone who loves to play Golf, and Jeremy Clarkson, not necessarily in that order." Richard laughed. "And when it comes to _who_ I'm with, it's going to be none of anyone's business, whether it's a woman...or a man." 

There was a moment while it sank into Richard exactly what James was confessing. "How long have you known?" He finally asked. "That you liked...uh...both?"

"Late teens, I guess," James answered. "I didn't have a name for it until University. I stuck with girls when I did date, though there were a couple of experiences the other way." He stared at his cup, not wanting to look Hammond in the eyes. "People think Bisexuality means you're spoilt for choice, but you're not," he continued. "Gay people don't tend to believe in it--you're one or the other and you're either in the closet or passing as. Straight people either don't believe in it and you're just some kind of libertine, or they do believe and don't want the complications of a wider field. Especially now."

"Does Jezza know?" Richard asked.

"Of course not!" James answered. "I'm Bi, not thick!" He poured himself another cup and refilled Richard's as well. "I think he suspects, he makes comments to the audience about my sexuality and it's quite funny. But he doesn't really know for sure. But Clarkson is much smarter than the average orangutan, so he may be waiting to spring his knowledge on me."

"He's also a lot more open-minded and caring than he appears," Richard added. "You probably shouldn't have a big parade and a press conference and wear a rainbow flag as a suit around him, but if you tell him, your secret will be sacred to him."

"What about you? Is my secret safe with you?"

"Are you going to drive any differently?" Richard asked. "Are you going to put rainbow flag stickers all over the cars we test and announce it over a tannoy? "

"No."

Richard grinned. "Well, then, nobody will hear it from me. And as long as you don't go around telling all the women I'm a widower, I won't go around spilling your secrets."

James shook his head. "Your wife died?"

Richard looked surprised. "You didn't know?"

"It's sort of an unwritten rule from Andy to not talk about your private life." James finished his tea and rinsed out the cup. "How long ago?"

"It's been a few years now," Richard told him quietly. "I auditioned for _Top Gear_ to help get past it. I...found her." James winced; he couldn't imagine what it was like to discover the body of someone you love, much less someone young. "They said it was a blood vessel in her brain, there was nothing I could've done. By the time I found her it was far too late."

James stood by the sink, holding onto the counters. "Fuck," he sighed weakly. "I'm sorry, Richard."

Richard gave a slight, sad smile and shook his head. "You didn't know," he answered simply. "I told Jezza and Andy after I got the gig. They made sure I stayed busy in the beginning. Jeremy helped me sort paperwork for life insurance and selling our house. Took me out to get me drunk a few times. Like I said, he's more caring than you think." James opened the cabinet and brought out a bottle of wine. "What's this for?"

"This conversation has sobered us up too much," James offered, opening the bottle. "Do you prefer the Heathen way and swilling it straight from the bottle, or the Roman Catholic way with glasses?"

"No preference," Richard answered, taking the bottle from James. "Should we wake up Clarkson?"

"None for him, more for us," James announced.

***

They danced around the idea for a very long time. 

Of course the accident that nearly killed Richard had its part in keeping them away from each other. There were the slight changes that came with a traumatic brain injury and actually staring straight into the eyes of Death and surviving. Then came the battle to get everything back to normal on the show. Once Richard returned the relationship between the three men fell back into their normal camaraderie. But now there was something more.

A few weeks after Richard began filming again, James was sitting in the portacabin by himself during a break in filming. He'd been a little withdrawn lately, slightly more than usual for him.

"Hey there, Slow," Jeremy greeted him, pouring himself a cup of coffee. James continued to stare off into space, clear he had not heard Clarkson at all. "Slow?" Jeremy called; James still looked distracted. "James?" James finally looked up sheepishly. "You were off in the ozone, mate," he grinned slightly.

James stared past Jeremy and out the window. "How do you think he's doing?" He asked, frowning a little.

"Hammond? I think it's better than the first time back. It's starting to come back to him how to do this. Remember, it's been months and months. He has to get his sea legs again."

James considered this a moment. "Yeah, I guess that's it," he muttered.

"Why? What's wrong?" Jeremy asked. There was a tone in James' voice that said he was worried. "Have you seen or heard of any off moments?"

James shook his head. "I wonder if he's come back too soon?" he replied. "I know we all stood firm with the Beeb that we weren't doing this without him, that we would wait until we--and he--felt he was ready again. But we don't really know if his brain's healed enough to do this. What if he's doing it because he feels pressured, that he's pushing the recovery because he doesn't want to let us down?"

Jeremy sat across from James. "I am checking in with Wilman and the crew. Wilman's checking in with me and the crew," he answered. "And we're all watching Rich, to the point where he's aware we're watching and he's starting to get irked by it. We're aware he could easily tell us he's fine in circumstances that he isn't. That's why we make sure he has time to kip in the middle of the day and work the shooting schedules around his therapist. Rich wants to feel normal again, not like an invalid or a lab rat." He sat back and observed James as the answer was absorbed and digested. "But I suspect," he continued slowly, "that your worry is...more than a _strictly professional_ concern?"

There was a palpable silence in the room. Jeremy knew James didn't discuss much of his personal life. What Jeremy and Richard knew about their mate had been gathered over the years, from nights sleeping off pub crawls and gossip and idle chats in the office, and of course the Bollocks Hour before studio shoots with the audience. Jeremy didn't remember where or who this nugget of information had come from, but he knew: James was Bi and was okay with making light of it, because to the uninformed it was a joke. But now Jeremy wasn't asking because it was funny, James' happiness was at stake, perhaps even his role on the show itself should things go wrong. He had to know, though he knew this was a time to tread carefully.

James finally took a deep breath. "How long have you suspected?" James asked, keeping his eyes to the floor; he could feel the blush rising, turning his face a deep crimson.

"Since the accident," Jeremy answered gently. "I walked in to sit with Hammond in the ICU. You didn't see me. He was still in the coma, nobody knew if he was going to survive." Jeremy blinked quickly, a sure sign to James that Clarkson was fighting tears. "You were holding his hand and stroking it so gently. It was the touch of someone deeply in love. You were also whispering to him, but I couldn't hear what you said. When you finally walked out you'd composed yourself. I wanted to ask before now, but there were other things more pressing."

James was quiet. "There's nothing going on, you know," he stated. " Never has been. He doesn't see me like that, and he doesn't know. He can never know, Jez."

"Why not?"

"Because he's bloody _straight_ , Clarkson!" James stood and started pacing. "I mean, he knows I go both ways and he's okay with that. But if he knew a man, one of his mates, was attracted to him, don't you think he'd freak out over it? We work together, the pressure of that would be too much if he knew. If you found out I was attracted to you instead of him, don't you think you'd feel weird?"

"Possibly," Jeremy conceded. "But I am straight, 100%. As for Hamster...well...let's just say things are not always as they appear."

James couldn't quite wrap his brain around what he just heard. "What? What do you mean by that?"

Jeremy stared directly into James' eyes. "Sit down," he said quite seriously. James sat. "What I'm going to tell you is in the strictest confidence. You are never to tell Hammond you heard this from me. If he figures out I told you, I will first deny it, then murder you in your sleep and feed your corpse to the fish in Whitby." James nodded. "I don't know all the details," Jeremy explained, "but Richard had what you'd call an 'experience' in art school. With a roommate."

James' eyes flew open wide. "What?! How do you know this?"

"Hammond told me," Jeremy answered simply. "I got him really drunk one night when he desperately needed it when he missed Mindy. He said he was really drunk when it happened, too. Then he freaked out about it the next day. He regretted losing the friendship of the roommate over it."

But he's always with women," James argued. "He's a magnet for them."

"You blithering idiot, haven't you ever heard of overcompensation?" Jeremy fired back. "At the time he told me this Rich admitted he still gets...curious. He is attracted to women, and after what happened he was with women exclusively. He said it was almost like being in denial. Then he met Mindy, and the circumstances surrounding her kept him away from either one. Now...who knows? Maybe it's time. You know he just broke up with that model he'd been sleeping with. What was her name, Marilyn? Mariana?"

"Madison," James frowned. He wasn't very impressed by Hammond's choice: a Very Tall, Very Busty Very Blonde with an IQ smaller than her feet. He had to check himself on that, as his dislike of Madison had everything to do with him being jealous. "Wait a minute...why are you being so helpful?" He asked.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Because I'm tired of both of you having your heads up your own arses about it," he grumbled. "I talk to you and your limp-wristed twaddle makes it clear you're pining for him. I talk to him and his limp-wristed twaddle makes it clear he's attracted to you, for some bizarre reason. But neither of you have ever made a move. So I am, just to shut you both up. Just one warning, though, the same one I gave to Hamster: if you two do this and then there's some kind of breakup later, it can't hurt the ability to work together. Or Wilman will fire you both. And no discussion of your sexual practices around me, because I'll throw up." Jeremy stood. "Break's over. Back to shooting." He left before James could properly thank him for the advice. But if this did indeed work, James knew he'd have to come up with one of the greatest thank-you presents of all time.

***

Even after a shove from Jeremy, it still took a while longer.

Richard made up with Madison, something that James was forced to bite his tongue over. Apparently Richard had done the breaking up the first time, so when they resumed their relationship, Madison was sure to dictate her terms and conditions. But those terms and conditions changed every week; what she wanted before was unacceptable now, leaving Richard confused and guessing constantly. And if he guessed wrong there was hell to pay--accusations of cheating, stony silences, and definitely a lack of affection. The longer it went on the more Richard seemed to be guessing wrong. It got to the point Richard was looking forward to the shoots that took him out of the country, not because he enjoyed Madison welcoming him home, but because it gave him a break in spite of the hard work.

Perversely, Richard was anything if not stubbornly reluctant to admit defeat and break up with her again. He was determined to make things right, believing perhaps he had been widowed and playing the field too long, he'd become too accustomed to having his own way all the time and healthy relationships had give-and-take. Though James wanted to (correctly) point out who was doing all the giving and taking, he knew Richard would ask why James appeared overly concerned with it, and then James would have to explain why, and James wasn't ready. He feared what would happen if he revealed too much to the one he wanted so badly, because it had happened too many times to count: they would sigh, give a sad smile, and say while they were flattered, he obviously wanted more than what they were prepared to give. That would be that, except in this case it would be more, it would probably mean he would have to leave the show, because he couldn't just stand there and watch Richard Hammond go off with someone else anymore, and he certainly couldn't watch him go off with Madison and watch him be disembowled regularly by her. James would end up doing something untoward and desperate.

There came a midwinter day when the weather became nasty. A storm was moving in, promising to bring snow and ice at levels not usually seen in London. Jeremy, who lived in Chipping Norton, left home early to stay in his London flat; shooting was supposed to take place later in the week, and he believed it would be easier to reach Dunsfold from there instead of the English countryside covered in ice. And if the power did go out, he could always retreat to Hammond or May and stay warm.

He was loading up his car with supplies at Tesco's when James called. "I take it you're ready for the storm?" James asked.

"Wine, soup, bog roll, bread, and milk," Jeremy answered. "I can understand why you buy bread, in case the power goes out and you can eat sandwiches. And if you have power the soup keeps you warm." 

"Mix the wine with the soup and you can get really toasty," James cracked to Jeremy's laughter.

"Why do you think I doubled up on the wine?" Jeremy asked, hearing James chuckle on the other end. "So I understand the soup and the bread, but why milk and bog roll? Do you know, the last snowstorm we stocked up on enough to wipe ourselves through Armageddon. And did I remember to bring any with me? No."

"With women, the ability to wipe is essential, and remember you have a wife and two daughters," James told him. "As you are alone it's not as important to you."

"So what about you?" Jeremy asked. "Are you ready, or just taking the piss because I'm ready and you're not?"

"Just got home an hour ago," James reported proudly. "I actually have enough to feed two. Not...not that I'll get the chance to..."

Jeremy sighed as he got in his car. He knew the news, they all did: Madison was in Barbados for a photo shoot. Richard was leaving directly from work yesterday to join her. And he took a ring with him so they could get married before the tabloids found out. Jeremy knew what James felt for Richard, so it hurt for him to see his mate hurt this openly. "Sorry, May."

James huffed. "That's what I get," he replied. "I didn't tell him, and he naturally went with what he knew he had, even if what he has is only perfect on the surface. Still, it's my fault for not fighting for him. Just getting what I deserve, I guess."

"Not true," Jeremy argued. "Neither of you are. You're not getting him and he's not getting you, and what he is getting is someone he really doesn't deserve." He started the car. "Would you like me to come over?" Jeremy asked. "I can bring over a couple of bottles, we can watch _Battle of Britain_ , and make fun of the poor sods on the news who get stuck in the snow."

James chuckled a little. "It sounds good, but it looks like the storm is moving in faster than expected. You will end up as one of those poor sods on the news who get stuck in the snow."

"Fair enough. Call me later if you change your mind." Jeremy hung up and drove back to his flat, debating whether to call Hammond in Barbados to yell at him for being such an insensitive little bastard, or trying to hop on the first flight he could to Barbados to personally wring the insensitive little bastard's neck.

Meanwhile James spent the afternoon listening as heavy rain hit the roof, the opening salvo of the storm. After a while the sound changed to something unmistakable, the sound of ice. It was still mostly rain, but ice was definitely in it. It was going to turn into freezing rain overnight, and tomorrow several inches of snow would cover it. 

Being stuck in the house let James' mind wander, and right now where he was going was very dark. He would never be with who he really wanted, and Richard would never really know. Richard would never be allowed to know, everything would be too uncomfortable if he was with someone else. James would try to keep the status quo as long as he could, would even try to tolerate Madison during the short periods he'd have to spend with her. But sooner or later the truth would be revealed. And by then James would be gone. It would be better for all concerned. No time like the present, James thought to himself, to begin a new chapter of his life.

He pulled out the mobile and turned on the Grindr app, something he hadn't done in a long time. Stephen Fry introduced him to it, something kind of fun and a way to meet others like him. James had used it when he needed a companion, when his loneliness became too much and neither Jeremy or Richard had been available. The app had a locator for members nearby. To his relief, there was Kevan. He lived a couple of blocks away and he was always up for just about anything--a movie, getting high, a booty call. Right now James probably wanted all three. Good thing Kevan would bring his own stash.

Just before pressing the button to contact Kevan, there was a knock. James could still hear the icy rain pouring down and wondered who in the hell would show up in this weather. Then he thought of Jeremy and felt both annoyed the man would take such a chance in this weather and touched the man would actually take the chance. He opened the door and received a shock.

It was Richard, and he was soaked to the skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter I mentioned a bit of fanfic featuring a threesome between Richard, James, and Mindy. For the curious it really does exist. It's called Come Together by deliciousmelody, and it's a hot little story.


	3. The Way We've Come to Be (Cont.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is sexual content of a non-consensual nature, though it is brief.

Hammond was clearly not dressed for the weather. He was wearing a denim jacket and jeans, both of which were wet, and his dark hair laid flat and soaking on his head, rain dripping off him. He was visibly shaking; any moment James knew Hammond was in danger of hypothermia. "Hammond, Dear God," James whispered and pulled him inside by the elbow. Leading him to the front room, James' mud room, he made sure Richard removed all his wet clothing, returning with several towels and blankets. Once he was sufficiently dried, Richard was led to the sofa and ordered to lie still, where he was draped with even more blankets. 

James reappeared from the kitchen with mugs of tea to find Richard still shivering violently under the blankets. "Bloody hell, Rich, what are you doing here?" He asked. "You're supposed to be in Barbados with Madison."

"Complications," Richard replied, drinking the hot tea down quickly. "They made me go out and take a long walk, just to clear my head. I didn't realize how wet I'd become or how cold it was until I slipped on a patch of ice."

James knew they needed to talk; Richard was definitely not supposed to be here. But he was distracted by not necessarily uncomfortable thoughts that the man he wanted was sitting here naked under piles of blankets. "I need to get you some warm, dry clothes while yours are drying," he announced. "I also need to make up the guest room. I'm afraid the weather is only going to get worse, so you're stuck here tonight. I'll be back soon." James went into the front room, gathering Richard's wet, icy clothes and placed them in the dryer. Then he bounded upstairs to place fresh sheets on the guest room bed. All the while James couldn't help but recall the look in Richard's eyes as the door was opened. It had been a look of heartache and confusion, perhaps brought on by the cold, but confusion nevertheless. Right now Richard rarely looked more in need of a mate, no matter what happened.

When James finally came downstairs with an oversized pair of sweatpants and shirt, he found Richard deeply asleep on the sofa, buried in the blankets, the look on his face one of security, as if this was the only safe place for him in his life. Quietly James placed the clothes on the coffee table and headed back to the kitchen to make something hot to eat.

When Richard awoke, James was sitting on the other side of the sofa, watching TV with the sound low. There was live coverage of the storm, the cancellation of flights at Heathrow and Gatwick, and various local reports of accidents. He felt warm and as normal as he could feel under the circumstances. Richard stretched, careful neither to kick James or to not give his mate an eyeful. "I made a lot of soup," James offered. "Would you like some? You must be hungry."

Richard grabbed the sweatpants and pulled them on while still under the blankets. Then he pulled the sweatshirt on over his head. "What time is it?" He asked.

"Just before 6," James answered. "You've been here a few hours. Good thing, too. The news reported your neighbourhood has lost power from the ice. And you have no alternative heat sources. Are you warm now?"

"I'm feeling warmer," Richard acknowledged. "But the soup sounds nice, thanks."

They sat in the kitchen and enjoyed a hearty soup and slices of bread, but both men were silent. More than anything James wanted to know how it was Richard ended up on his doorstep on the threshold of hypothermia instead of a tropical island in the Caribbean getting married to his model girlfriend. But he didn't want to press him on the matter. Richard's private life was his private life, it was a sort of unspoken rule between the three of them that not everyone needed to know everything, including the three men, and all had the prerogative to not tell the others. Of course they didn't tend to invoke this rule with each other, but there could always be a first time.

"I'm guessing you want to know what happened," Richard whispered, staring into his bowl of soup.

"The thought did cross my mind," James acknowledged nonchalantly. "But if you want to keep it quiet, you don't have to explain."

There was a pause and in the meantime Richard continued to not look at James. "We broke up," Richard finally said, his voice so soft James almost didn't hear him. "Madison and I called it off, for good."

"Oh," James replied, unsure what to say. "Shit, I'm sorry, Hammond."

"Yeah," Richard responded. "It's okay, I know you had issues with her. Please, just don't turn handsprings around me. At least wait until I'm not around." James didn't turn handsprings. Instead he walked over to a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two fresh cups. He poured out a bit and placed one of the cups in front of Richard, who knocked it back in one go. "A few weeks ago, when we came back from Bonneville, I caught her fucking her photographer," he said. James winced. "Just right there in front of me, _right in the act_. He left and I had it out with her. She told me she was glad I knew, that it had been going on for awhile, and she wasn't sure she wanted to stop. But like a fucking idiot I just let it go. I decided that maybe what she wanted was a commitment, so I made plans to join her in Barbados, take a ring with me, maybe offer her a house and kids and life in the country, like she said she wanted all along. It was the first time since...Mindy...I was thinking that way." James poured another shot for Richard. "So, last night I was packed and ready to leave for Heathrow, then Madison called. She, uh, accused me of wanting someone else, that I had been dreaming lately about them, even mentioned a name. She said she couldn't be a second choice, and she ended things. She said when she returned she was getting her things and moving in with her photographer." 

"That is a shitty way to do it," James replied. "Breakups should never be done over the phone."

Richard knocked back the next shot. "All night long I thought about what Madison told me, how I wanted someone else. There's a part of me that says...she's absolutely right. I have been dreaming about them. The problem is, I don't know if I want to acknowledge that side of myself. I...have this other part of my life, a part most everyone hasn't seen, but it's there."

James was quiet. "Is it illegal?" He asked. "Can you go to prison for it?"

Richard snorted. "I don't think so."

"Would you have the consent of this other person? Is it an adult we're talking about?" Richard nodded. "Then, is there really a problem?"

"The problem is I know this person pretty well," Richard argued, "and I'm not sure they see me like that. And if I take a chance and it turns out they don't, it could screw things up for a lot of people. That's how I ended up here. My head was running with so many thoughts I really wasn't paying attention to what was going on."

James sighed. "I hope you know," he said, "that this is a safe place. That somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew I'd open my door to you. Jezza too. By the way, does he know about this attraction?"

Richard nodded. "He told me I should tell them," he said. "I might be surprised."

"Sounds like good advice, and from Clarkson that's saying a lot," James smiled. 

James washed the dishes and joined Richard on the sofa, continuing to watch the news coverage of the storm. Now it was James' head that was running. He thought for the past 24 hours that Richard was now completely lost to him, that he would come back from Barbados a married man, married to a harridan who would hurt him so badly he'd be turned off to the idea of love the rest of his life. And now, suddenly, all was fair game again. Was it too much to ask he be given a chance? Was it too much to hope?

Before he realized it, the time was approaching ten. Richard was looking right at him, his large brown eyes demanding attention. He had just said something that James had not heard and was expecting an answer. James grinned shyly. And before his brain could process what was happening, Richard was closing the distance. Their lips met, a kiss that was pleasant and shy and sweet. It lasted a couple of minutes, then Richard pulled away to catch his breath. "Was that alright?" Richard asked him, his voice low and soft.

James nodded and blushed. "Why did you do that, Rich?" he asked, hoping the question wouldn't be misinterpreted and scare Richard away.

"Because, I've wondered for years what it would be like to kiss you," he answered, his eyes nakedly staring at James' mouth. The next kiss was longer and more involved, tongues parting teeth and exploring inside. James caressed Richard's cheek with his fingers, inviting him closer, wanting Richard to know he didn't mind the action. The kiss ended with both men out of breath, Richard and James resting their foreheads together. Richard chuckled breathlessly, his eyes closed, savouring the sensations. "I never dreamed," he gasped, "never thought I'd ever want this from you."

James ran his hands through Richard's hair. "I never thought I'd have a chance with you," he responded. "You never let on there was a possibility with you."

Richard looked at James, his eyes wide and sad. "Because, for the longest time I never allowed the possibility." He sat back and took James' hands into his. "I lived half a life for too long." 

***

His name was Bryan, and he was Richard's roommate in art college.

Bryan and Richard were admirers of each other's abilities through school. Richard could paint, while Bryan was a brilliant graphic designer who had a passion for Anime. Bryan was physically everything that Richard wasn't: tall, blonde, skin that had a golden glow to it. Richard was more of a Goth with his dark hair and pale skin. But to Richard Bryan was everything he wasn't, and a spectacular artist to boot. And given Richard's new discovery that he was attracted to both men and women, he thought Bryan was just about the most beautiful being he'd ever seen.

Bryan and Richard hung out together, created art together, got drunk together, and tried hitting on the same girls. Once or twice, they even tried a threesome with the same girl, an expert in giving blowjobs to two at once. And during one of those times, with her down on her knees and both in her mouth, Richard and Bryan kissed each other. He wasn't sure afterwards if it was the realization of this kiss, or if it might have been helped along by the girl, but Richard came immediately. Then he sat back and watched as Bryan finished with the girl. After she left, Bryan noticed Richard was half-hard again. Being around 20 then, Richard's recovery time was pretty quick. So Bryan kissed Richard very sweetly and blew him, causing him to see stars when he came in Bryan's mouth.

For a few months Richard and Bryan had their own little secret in their room. Granted it was rare for either of them to be without companionship, but those few times when neither had a girl, and they were both horny, they would spend the night keeping each other company. They didn't dare let their secret out of their room, however; this was the late 1980s, when bisexuality wasn't a common term, and homophobia was rampant and could lead to trouble.

A couple of weeks before graduation, there was a party. Being a fancy dress party, and the attendees being creative art students, Richard decided to dress up as a schoolgirl. He had friends secure a short plaid skirt, white blouse and saddle shoes, and he'd let his hair grow out enough to put into pigtails. A couple of female students helped him with makeup, and overall he made an _interesting_ girl.

Everyone got pretty wrecked at the party, at least it was how Richard justified things. He and Bryan staggered back to their room after midnight, and Richard headed for the bathroom to remove the makeup.

"Wait a minute," Bryan called after him, dressed in a toga and looking like a Greek god. "Let me get one more look at you before you turn back into a pumpkin." He took a good look up and down at Richard, licking his lips. "Has anyone ever told you that you would have made a pretty girl?" Bryan asked, leaning casually against the door.

Richard laughed. "I can't say I have, at least not until now," he answered.

"Well, you would have," Bryan noted. He leaned in and he and Richard shared a sloppy kiss. That kiss quickly became more than just a kiss, with a combination of being more than a bit drunk and both being incredibly horny 21-year-olds. And from the feel of what was underneath the toga as Bryan pressed Richard against the door and kissed him harder, he was enjoying the sight of his roommate dressed up as a girl. Richard could barely hold on as Brian's lips found his earlobe and pulled it into his mouth to suckle, followed by blazing a trail down his neck. Richard felt himself growing hard, especially when Bryan reached into his bottoms and began to stroke him, whimpering slightly at his arousal. Before he knew it, Bryan had grabbed Richard by the shoulders and forced him down to his knees. Ripping off his toga and pulling his cock out of his underwear, Bryan then placed his hand against Richard's head, holding him there. "Blow me, you slut," he commanded. Bryan's eyes were on fire, yet he was cold and forceful, something Richard had not encountered before. 

Richard complied with Bryan's commands, both ridiculously drunk and turned on by the change in his roommate's demeanor. He moved up and down the shaft, his tongue running along the underside ridge. The more turned on Bryan became at the vision in front of him, the more aggressive he became. "Fuck me with your mouth, you bitch," he growled, grabbing Richard's pigtails and forcing himself deeper into Richard's mouth. Richard's eyes watered, trying not to gag or choke as Bryan thrust hard in and out. Richard wanted to stop, starting to sober up a little, but at the same time Brian's delirious murmuring was sending jolts of sexual need through him: "That's fucking good, just greedy for my cock, aren't you? God, you slut, don't stop until I blow this wad..." Richard had rarely been turned on by dirty talk from anyone, neither Bryan or any girl, before, and he loved it. Conversely, Richard also felt a bit uncomfortable at where this was going, at the idea Bryan seemed unconcerned with Richard, that he was simply something to use, and most especially how he saw him as a female, even though the female in question was nursing a serious hardon underneath his short schoolgirl skirt as his face was being fucked.

Bryan suddenly pulled Richard off his cock. "You're going to get what I give you, bitch," he panted, continuing to hold Richard by the pigtails with one hand. With the other Bryan took himself in hand and began stroking himself. In just a few quick strokes Bryan came hard, spraying Richard's face with thick spurts. As his cock was softening, he pulled Richard to his feet and kissed him, all sloppy and messy, Richard wondering what in the hell was going on. 

He thought that would be it, and turned to walk into the bathroom to clean his face. "Where are you going, Rich?" Bryan asked behind him, his voice low and dangerous. Richard turned and looked into the eyes of someone who appeared to be his roommate and occasional experimental lover, yet he wasn't. Bryan's eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, but Richard could tell it wasn't from lust alone. He was clearly more than drunk, on something else, otherwise things wouldn't have progressed like they had so far. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, Bryan took Richard's hand and placed it on his cock, letting Hammond feel he was getting hard once again. Richard's eyes opened wide with surprise, stunned at Bryan's recovery time; he was always pretty quick at being ready to go again--the benefit of youth, Richard figured--but this was close to unreal. "I'm not done with you." With that he pushed Richard down onto his bed and proceeded to run his hands over Richard's body, still dressed as a schoolgirl. Once again he reached down to the bottoms, this time pulling them off. "Hands and knees, now," Bryan barked. Now Richard was worried. Bryan had never acted like this before, and whatever he'd used at the party made him not himself. But Richard also trusted Bryan, someone who was more experienced and knew Richard was not.

Richard felt the sensations of Bryan using his tongue on him, rimming him less than gently, his tongue penetrating. Richard relaxed slightly, realizing this was about as far as they'd gotten in their exploration; surely Bryan wouldn't do something Richard really wasn't ready to try. A lubed finger went inside and probed, sliding in and out. This was somewhat new, only done a couple of times. Then Bryan hit the right spot and Richard stopped questioning. This was quickly followed by a second, then a third finger, thrusting in and out roughly. "What are you doing?" Richard practically moaned.

"Time you were broken in, Richard," Bryan answered. 

Richard immediately froze. "Uh, Bryan--"

"Don't argue," Bryan told him. "We've been leading up to this. I've been training you to be the cockslut you are, and you dressing up tonight like this just means you want me to do it." 

"But...I'm not ready for this," Richard argued. And indeed he wasn't ready. This was completely uncharted territory, penetration. Richard had simply been exploring, experimenting with someone who was willing to let him try things at his own pace. And while he'd been extremely drunk right after the party and had been willing to play while he was on his knees in front of his roommate earlier, now he was stone cold sober and not really wanting to go this far. "Bryan, I can't..."

"Shut up," Bryan responded as he quickly slipped on the condom and slicked himself with lube. 

And then Bryan entered him, going balls deep. It wasn't a completely savage entry, quick and complete and brutal; Richard's tightness prevented much of that from happening, but it wasn't as gentle as Richard knew Bryan would have been had he been okay; in fact, had Bryan been okay he would have seen Richard's reluctance and stopped. Richard tried to breathe, tried to relax himself at the intrusion, knowing tension would make everything so much worse. The sudden feeling of being overly full, the uncomfortable feeling of being split from the inside, was overwhelming. "Oh, holy fuck," Bryan groaned, shaking behind Richard, "such a tight virgin hole." He bent over Richard's back to whisper in his ear. "I'm going to fix that soon enough," he said, voice dark. "I'm going to fuck you, make that arse of yours fit my cock, then you'll be mine."

"Bryan, please," Richard pleaded. "I don't think I'm ready for this. Just stop."

Bryan didn't listen. He began to thrust, hard, forcing himself in and out, pushing himself up to his balls and back. He was rough and strong. All Richard could hear were Bryan's grunts of effort, the creak of the bed, the slap of skin on skin. Richard groaned with that awful feeling of being intruded, and worse, that equally terrible feeling of his own body betraying him as his prostate was being consistently pumped. There was no way he'd convince Bryan, or anyone else for that matter, that deep down he really, _really_ didn't want this. Not when he willingly went to his knees earlier, not when they'd spent the past few months doing everything but fuck each other. And he was doing this with another guy--who was going to listen to him for _that_ , since everyone is saying it's wrong?

At least Bryan had the courtesy to bring Richard up and grab his cock, now poking out from under the skirt, hard and leaking, roughly jerking him off. "My willing little virgin bitch," Bryan whined, " your tight hole _feels sooo gooooood..._ " Bryan slammed painfully into Richard, then came inside him, squeezing Richard's cock as he released all over the bedcovers. Bryan and Richard sank down onto the bed together, still joined, Richard underneath, panting and trying to catch their breath. Pulling out, Bryan kissed the back of Richard's neck, then grabbed him and held him tightly there. "I'm going to take care of this," he growled, "then we're going to do that again. And then you're going to show me you like it, just like you really do. I'm going to make that virgin hole of yours nice and loose. Then you're going to only want my cock to ram you, my greedy little bitch."

Before Bryan dropped off to sleep, he fucked Richard in the same rough manner twice more. The next morning, still very sore, Richard told him he wasn't ready for what Bryan had expected from him, packed his belongings, and moved in with a female friend, staying on her sofa the last week of classes. 

***

"I wish I had just explained to Bryan what he'd done," Richard told James. "He was out of his head. If he had been okay I don't think it would have gone so far."

"You're justifying what he did, Hammond," James answered, shaking his head. "You didn't want it, not what he eventually did. No means no, no matter when it's said. Isn't that what women learn?"

Richard nodded. "Nobody was going to believe me," he said. "I gave him a blowjob. We'd done everything else before that night. I was still with women, but Bryan and I had been more than roommates for months. So I decided I wasn't going to deal with the same thing from a woman and I just went with them exclusively. I ended up telling Mindy about me. One of the reasons I married her was due to her knowing and not rejecting me. I'd had a couple of them do that."

"And you spent all these years denying this side of yourself, even after Mindy died," James stated sympathetically. "I can't imagine what it would have been like to lose someone like her, much less try to find someone else."

"And the reality is, Madison is anything but, " Richard chuckled sadly. "But I'd given up on finding anyone as special. It wasn't there in any of the women I've been with since. When I realized I was attracted to you, at first I wanted to say no. Because of what happened with Bryan."

James' response was to gently touch and caress Richard's hair. "I would never do this with you," he whispered. "We can explore as much as you want, go anywhere you want to go. If there are places you can't go, I want to wait until you're ready. The one thing I can promise is this: I will stop if you say stop." Richard looked directly into James' blue eyes and knew he meant it. 

Over the course of three days, as the snow piled up and the streets became impassable due to ice and major sections of London lost electricity, Richard rediscovered what it had been like to be with a man, this time with James. James was patient with him and allowed Richard to control the action. And those few times when it was clear Richard wasn't quite sure, James did exactly what he promised. It was clear he wasn't like Bryan. He wasn't like Madison and pretended to have a level of integrity. If anything, Richard realized quickly, James was very much like Mindy: calm, patient, wise, knew what he expected of himself and others. By the time the storm was over and Richard had been able to go home safely, he and James knew they wanted to be with each other as lovers. Jeremy had remained in touch with them during the storm and crowed with pride at having so successfully played matchmaker, knowing these two should have been together all along.

They lived with each other for years before they got married. There were the typical ups and downs of any relationship, but to everyone around them it was obvious that Richard and James loved each other and deserved happiness more than just about anyone. When the time came, they stood in the sand in Aruba and said their vows. The ceremony was to make it legal, but in reality Richard and James made those promises to each other many years ago, sitting on a sofa in Hammersmith during a round of freezing rain and snow.

But...why was Richard now dreaming of a woman who'd been dead nearly 20 years?


	4. Drawn to a Different Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard begins to examine what's happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are specific recalls of the 2006 accident.

"James, this is really freaking me out," Richard said over breakfast. "I mean, if I had dreams about our courtship...memories....finding her....I think I might understand. I might wonder why it's happening now, but I'd get it. This makes no sense to me."

"Well, I can't say I know much about Dream Psychology, Hammond," James replied as he sat with his plate, "but something has triggered you. It could be a dress in a shop window that looked like something she wore, or a song she liked. Or a woman who had the same colour of hair. Whatever it was, it's in the back of your mind."

"But these aren't dreams of 20 years ago, James. This is _now_. She is 20 years older. Our lives are 20 years later. Not just Mindy and me. You, Jezza, Wilman. It's the life I would have lived had I not fallen in love with you. You guys are around, but you're my mates."

"Are you sure we're just mates in your dreams?" James teased, grinning. Richard looked at him intently. "I mean, who's to say I'm not a side piece?"

Richard knew what James was doing: he was trying to lighten the mood, and he adored him for it. Richard also knew it wouldn't be right if he left so obvious a joke ungathered. "I'm not sure," he answered James. "It seems to me that if things are so different in that dream world, and I am indeed having an affair, the side piece would be Clarkson and not you." Richard laughed as he watched the expression bloom on James' face on exactly how sex between them would take place.

As James loaded the dishwasher later he thought long and hard about things. Richard was right about it being strange. Over the years Richard had admitted to an occasional dream about the woman he'd loved, and he supposed that was normal. But the dreams Richard had told him about were memories of their time together, before Richard and James had ever met. Reality was, Richard had never lived in the countryside and never had children, and while he'd been married to Richard awhile now, they hardly knew each other for 20 years, much less been married that long. Yet his husband's dreams were of a lifetime that never existed, with someone whose memory he could never really combat. It almost wasn't fair.

James felt himself turned around, felt Richard giving him a lingering kiss. "The shower's ready for you," he mentioned. "I wish you would have joined me."

James smiled. "With the way you showed me how much you loved me last night, if we'd showered together today we'd never leave the house." He returned Richard's kiss with one of his own. "Be done soon." He went upstairs.

To bide his time waiting for James, who was as much Captain Slow in dressing for the day as he was driving, Richard put on the kettle and made himself more tea. He was sipping his tea at the window when he saw it: a bright, flashing light. Even though the morning was overcast, something was catching the glint of the daylight and flashing at him, just like in his dreams. Whatever it was, it was in the back garden. Richard opened the door and stepped outside.

The light flashed quickly in his face, bright and yet not entirely blinding and painful. He walked toward the source, which seemed to move one step back with every step Richard took. It seemed to move on its own, bending and distorting to continue to reflect the daylight. Then he saw what appeared to be the source:

A pane of glass, or what looked like glass. It was changing its own shape to continuously capture the light, almost wobbling. The reflected light continued to flash quickly into his face, to the point it nearly became hypnotic. Richard became mesmerized the longer he stared at it. He could see through the pane of glass to see the fence of the back garden, but there was something else there he could barely see. Shadows of barely-there images were inside the glass, moving. Richard wanted to know what he was seeing and stepped closer...

The light was changing...

"Rich?" James called from the doorway. Richard turned to face him. James was standing there, drying his still wet hair with a towel. "Rich, what are you doing out here?"

"Looking at the light," Richard answered. "Someone's left a big panel of glass out here."

James shrugged. "What glass?"

Richard turned. The glass was gone.. "I...There was a large pane of glass, right here, near the fence," he stammered. "It moved around, catching the light. And I could see through it, but I could also see faint images in it." He turned back to James. "You didn't see it?"

"No," James answered back. "Are you sure that's what you saw?"

"Absolutely," Richard replied. But now it was gone, and it left him with questions. What _did_ he see? What were those faint shadows? Why did he feel as if he were being drawn to it?

***

The first place Richard visited was an ophthalmologist. The flashing lights could have been the sign of a retinal detachment or some other problem with his eyes, so he had an eye exam. He kept this quiet, because a vision problem could potentially keep him from driving, his livelihood, and he didn't want to worry Andy until he knew for sure. But the eye exam revealed no trouble, and he walked out of the office with little more than a new prescription for his reading glasses. James had been the only one who knew of the eye exam, since he'd have to drive Richard home after his pupils had been dilated. They even stopped to chat with a paparazzo hanging around outside the house, who must have been disappointed the headline _**Richard Hammond Visits Eye Doctor**_ just wouldn't make him the big cheddar from the Daily Mail.

Now that a potential vision issue was eliminated, Richard concluded his next visit had to involve something more serious--a potential brain issue. He was in uncharted territory where the long-term effects of brain injuries were concerned, especially with the area of the brain that had been injured. So he contacted his neurologist, describing his symptoms. A few scans were done that indicated little change in the original area of the damage, and considering both the dreams he had of Mindy and the ophthalmologist's findings, it was suggested Richard may have an emotional cause to his symptoms.

"And the neurologist found nothing?" Jeremy asked incredulously over pizza in the DriveTribe office. 

"No significant changes," Richard answered between bites, "at least none that would explain why I'm seeing flashing lights none of you are seeing."

"It's all in his head," James chimed in. "A frightening place to be sure." Jeremy and Andy roared as Richard shot James a sideways look.

"If it is emotional, it's odd that it happened now," Andy mused. "Why now? Why not back when your brain was healing and the emotions were slotting themselves back into place?"

"Some things can be a land mine," Jeremy answered. "It's possible this was here all along and something has set it off."

"I don't like that idea," Richard argued. "It's almost like saying I've been doomed to have this happen. If that's true, then perhaps it's inevitable that it's going to progress into something much worse." He finished his pizza slice and got up from the table.

"Hammond?" Jeremy offered, seeing that Richard was unhappy. "Rich? Hey--"

"It's okay," James answered. "Leave him be for now."

An hour later, Jeremy poked his head into Richard's office. Richard was staring at the computer screen, apparently trying to write, but looking like he was actually distracted. "Is it safe to enter?" he asked. Richard sighed and nodded, and Jeremy had a seat. "Sorry."

Richard said nothing at first. "Land mines," he muttered. "Ever since the accident I've tried to avoid the idea something would be a tripwire to make one go off. Now...apparently I've hit some kind of tripwire and I don't even know what the fuck it is."  


"We have planned for this," Jeremy replied, "the idea it would come back on you eventually. To be perfectly honest, I'm a bit staggered it hasn't really happened before." Jeremy paused. "You know Wilman and I will find a way to work around this. Especially Wilman. Between the three of us, he's an expert on reshuffling schedules."

"Jez, what if this is something that can't be worked around?" Richard asked softly. "What if this really is the beginning of something much worse?" He stared out the window. "You know, after...I thought what would come back to haunt me was a personality change or loss of memory. Perhaps the eye that was injured would end up with a flaw or damage that would only come back years later, after aging. I didn't expect to suddenly start having dreams of a woman I barely know anymore and illusions of flashing lights."

"Well, there has to be a perfectly logical explanation for all of this. It's probably very simple that ties it all together and we're all going to find utterly stupid. And it's a good thing there's no physical reason. Don't you agree?" But Richard said nothing. He was staring straight ahead, straight past Jeremy, staring intently. "Rich?" Jeremy waved his hand. "Hammo?"

"Do you see it?!" Richard whispered. Just behind Jeremy, Richard could see the giant panel of glass he saw in the back garden earlier. Light was emanating from it, flashing and swirling. Inside the glass, like earlier, he could see shadows moving inside, though he couldn't make out what the shadows were. He knew something was there, something he had to see. Richard stood, bending forward, trying to get a better look but keeping his desk between him and it. "Come over here by me and look, Jeremy."

"What is it?" Jeremy asked, looking around him.

"It's back," Richard answered. "You can see it from this angle. Come on." Richard's eyes were wide with surprise and fascination. Amid the moving shadows and flashing light, one image stood out, ringed with it's own light, pulsing with life: a small woman with reddish-gold hair and an easy smile, she was leading a horse, dressed in denim, clearly dressed for working dirty, such as cleaning out a stall. The woman looked up and smiled widely, a smile that went all the way into her clear, bright eyes. "Hello, Love," she said gently. Richard felt drawn to her.

"Hammond?"

Richard blinked. Jeremy was standing behind him, staring ahead. The vision was gone. "Jez, did you see it?" he asked. "Tell me you saw that!"

All Jeremy could do was shake his head. "I'm sorry, nothing's there."

"Well of course it isn't there now!" Richard replied, exasperated. "But it was right there. The glass was back, so was the light!"

"I didn't see it, Hammo," Jeremy told him. "I never saw anything."

"But you did!" Richard continued to argue. "You had to see it, you were standing right next to me. You saw the window, and...and...the shadows...moving..." Jeremy looked at him steadily. "It wasn't there, was it?" he asked, his voice unnaturally quiet. Jeremy didn't respond. Richard sat down heavily in his chair. "Oh, God."

Jeremy managed to kneel down, which was something he was rarely able to do anymore, and looked at Richard with sympathy. "Hammond, there is a cause for all this," he said. 

"Yeah...like I'm losing my fucking mind...." Richard stated, his voice shaking. He was terrified; Richard had always felt his mind was the only thing he truly had, no matter what. He was always portrayed as an idiot in comparison, but the fact was all three men were hyperintelligent, and Andy the smartest of all. Richard's mind could imagine and create while also seeing the technical realities within. That mind got him his livelihood and the love of his life, and now he was in danger of losing his one true possession.

Jeremy said nothing else, simply patting Richard on the shoulder in manly reassurance and standing up. He couldn't help Richard much at this point, and it made him feel helpless.

***  
_Richard stood in the dark, staring at the large panel, the light swirling blue and gold and bright white. He tried to stare into the glass, wanting to make out the moving shadows inside. James held his hand, giving Richard reassurance. The wind was rising, blowing his hair back. "Rich, it's time!" he yelled, trying to make his voice heard. "You have to go!"_

_"You have to come with me!" Richard yelled in answer. "I don't want to do this without you!"_

_James shook his head. "I don't think it works that way!" he answered. "The window is closing! You have to go, now!"_

_"We belong to each other!" Richard argued. "We've always belonged to each other! I don't have you there!"_

_"You have more, Richard!" James replied. "There, you have so much more. You have Mindy, and your daughters. You have Jez, and Wilman, and me. You will always have me. You have to go live in that life!"_

_Finally, Richard nodded. He kissed James fiercely, almost desperately. "I love you," he whispered into James' ear, then pulled back and took a good look at his face; James was stoic, looking quite unlike a man who was watching the love of his life walk away from him and never return. In the swirling light he looked beautiful. Richard approached the glass, feeling drawn toward the image inside, an image of James' house in Hammersmith, an image familiar to him. Familiar and inviting. But at the last second he pulled away and ran over to James. "Hold my hand!" he shouted. Then he and James together ran toward the glass._

_Richard was surrounded by light, washing over him, swirling light and colour, all the while feeling the security and joy of his love's hand in his. They would be together in this other life, and as long as they were together they would be satisfied. Even if in this other life he was married and a father, Mindy would have to understand he needed the best of both worlds. He could love her and him, embrace his full life. They would work things out, because what he could remember of the Mindy that died, along with the Mindy he'd seen, she was a rational, giving person. She would understand and accept._

_But when the image became firm and real, the street in Hammersmith where James lived, to his horror he found his James wasn't with him. He spun around, momentarily seeing the panel of glass...and the one he loved staring at him forlornly on the other side. "No!" Richard cried out. "James! James!" He pounded on the glass, somehow hoping it would shatter. "Not like this, God!" Then as he was continuing to hit the glass, it started to fade. James!_

Richard awoke in the dark, in bed, staring at James asleep beside him. His face was calm and peaceful, and Richard envied his husband's ability to sleep at times when he could not. The dream awoke in Richard a fear that he could lose James entirely while trying to figure out his dreams. In his dream world, where Mindy was alive and he lived happily with her in Wales, his James was already gone. James was there in that world, but only as a mate, and he couldn't imagine seeing James every day like he did (he wasn't quite sure the fans really understood just how much time the three men spent together) and yet not touch him, or express himself.

There was a conclusion he'd drawn from what he'd dreamt: that this other world did exist, that the pane of glass he kept seeing held this other world on the other side. And he really wasn't losing his mind after all. But nobody else believed him, and if he somehow ventured to this other world, he'd be lost to this one, and James-- _his James_ \--would be lost to him.

***

Richard started seeing a therapist soon after, at the insistence of everyone around him. He mentioned the dreams, of course, but not that he suspected at least part of the dreams were real in any way, simply choosing to talk about what it meant to be with Mindy and James. He was asked to give details of his life, how Mindy had died, how he fell in love with James, what his marriages had given to him, his career. And his accidents. Richard started keeping a dream journal, similar to one James kept dealing with his recurring nightmares following what happened in 2006. James was enthusiastic about this; it was something he understood, something he'd done himself and found helpful. This was something that would explain the dreams themselves, what they meant, and how to triumph over them.

After a few months, there came a time where Richard went through a phase. He appeared thoughtful and withdrawn. Jeremy noticed and told James he believed Richard was struggling with telling him, that maybe James should reassure Hammond he could be trusted. Over dinner that night, a simple affair of Spaghetti Bolognese, salad, and wine, Richard finally told him.

"My therapist wants to try Hypnosis," he announced.

James frowned. Richard had been hypnotized once, for the show, and it was quite funny (if not bizarrely, frighteningly prophetic on certain levels). But since his big accident it had not been tried. His brain injury was healing, there were doubts that the injury itself would allow him to be hypnotized, and there had been concern that Hypnosis could trigger suppressed memories of a highly traumatic event; his neurologist once said there were probably things that no human should ever have memories of, and it was best to leave it alone. "No, Hammond," was his response, shaking his head emphatically.

"James--"

"I can't believe that has even been suggested," James continued. "Worse, I can't believe you are even considering it."

"Look, I know what your concerns are, I have them too," Richard replied.

"I don't know what to say," James fumed, "except to say this: are you out of your mind?!"

"Yes! Apparently I am! That's why I'm seeing this Goddamned therapist in the first place!" Richard snapped. James said nothing else, staring at the floor. When Richard resumed, his voice was much more quiet. "There is something about these dreams that I am blocking. When I share my dream journal the dreams have detail, but after a certain point they get vague. My therapist believes these dreams mean something, but to find that out more details are needed."

"Rich, that's a suppressed memory," James answered softly. "Do you remember what your neurologist said? What if you have this done and they find out what you're suppressing had to do with the accident, or what happened after? What if what you're suppressing has nothing to do with the accident, but it opens the floodgates and those memories come back?

Richard sighed. "I wish I could reassure you nothing bad will happen, but I can't," he responded. "It's a risk, I know it is. I can be opening Pandora's Box. I can be opening myself up to destruction."

James glared at him. "Well, if you're doing that, I can't approve," he argued. "I said 'for better or worse', and I've accepted in our jobs there is a risk we try to mitigate, but this...this is a willful self-destruction and I don't have to accept that. So if you're determined to willfully fly too close to the sun, Icarus, you're doing it without me." James turned on his heel, grabbed his jacket, and walked out of the house.

He returned home two hours later, having had a few pints and a round of darts at the pub. The kitchen had been tidied and was silent, so he assumed Richard had gone to bed. 

James had taken the first steps up when Richard spoke from the darkened living room. "I dream about you," Richard said softly from James' chair. James came back downstairs as Richard turned to face him. "I have dreams that we cross to the other side together. You're there already, I know. But in that world I'm in love with Mindy, I'm married to her and we're happy. But in that world I don't have you, and there's no way to love you and be with you. So I take you with me. But once I get to the other side, you're not there. I turn around just in time to see the glass fade, and you're still on this side." Richard stood and walked over to James. "When I dream of that other world, just before I wake up I see those flashing lights. And now I can see that light, along with the glass, when I'm awake. It means something, James. And I'm scared, I'm bloody terrified. I'm grasping onto anything, anything I can, to explain it, and keep that light from swallowing me and taking you away from me. Because I keep getting called toward that other place and I'm venturing closer and closer to the glass. Help me, James. Please."

James held Richard close, could feel his body trembling with fear. He caressed Richard's hair and face, holding it in his hands. "Don't you understand how scared I am, too, you idiot?" he asked. "What the therapist is risking to get answers can awaken things that are best left dormant. I don't want to lose you to those. All of it can destroy you, and I love you."

"I love you, too," Richard agreed. "That's why I have to take the chance. If this is somehow real, what I'm seeing when I'm awake, then I have to find a way to protect us. And if it isn't real, I have to find a way to protect everyone else from me." James couldn't respond, instead just holding Hammond close once again. More than anything he wanted to keep his husband as safe as possible, knowing there was an adventurer within his DNA willing to explore even the things that frightened him. As tempting as it was to corral Richard Hammond, however, James had the knowledge that confining him, even for his own safety, would ultimately damage him more. All he could do was state what he wanted, then sit back and watch Richard do what he decided to do. He knew he would have to watch the man he loved take this chance. Then hope there was enough left to pick up the pieces.

***

A few weeks later, James was invited to come along for a session, and he walked into the therapist's office with the belief he was there to talk about his relationship with Richard, and maybe drive him home after the session of Hypnosis. Instead he not only met with the therapist, but a Dr. Jonas Bell from Oxford, who was apparently doing some dream research. Dr. Bell appeared as youthful in appearance as Hammond, though his eyes indicated he was older. He explained to James he was going to perform and analyze an EEG while Richard was under and he was asked about his dreams. James nodded in agreement; an EEG was perfectly harmless, only measuring brain waves. The risky work, James knew, was the recall under Hypnosis.

"What if this brings up other things in his life?" James asked the therapist, concerned. "Are you prepared to deal with those, considering you know his history? I know this is supposed to help, but I would like to be warned if I'm going to deal with some kind of aftermath."

"We are aware," the therapist answered , "and precautions have been taken. Richard will only be asked to recall the dreams he's currently experiencing, nothing from his previous accident or prior to that time. In previous sessions he's been given a post-hypnotic suggestion which will make it easier to put him into a trance and begin the analysis. Besides, we have had a few rounds without incident."

"A _few_ rounds?" James responded. "He's done this before?"

"Oh, yes," the therapist answered. "We've been doing this for the past month. Has Richard not informed you?" James' blue eyes flashed. "I take it he hasn't." Just then an assistant of Dr. Bell appeared and announced everything was ready. "This is something you two should discuss later," the therapist reported. "In the meantime I must ask you to remain quiet and calm through the process." James nodded, knowing there was definitely going to be a future discussion.

There was a video camera set up from Dr. Bell when James entered the room and sat in a far corner. Richard was lying down, trying to get comfortable with electrodes attached to his head. "Richard," the therapist began, "listen to the music and as it relaxes you take deep breaths." The therapist touched a remote; from the speakers surrounding the room came a soft playing of music that James recognized as Brian Eno's _Music for Airports_. Almost immediately James could see Richard relax, his breath becoming slower and deeper. "You will respond to my voice, my questions," the therapist continued soothingly. "Listen to the music and concentrate on your breathing. As you sink deeper into relaxation, your breathing will get deeper." In a few more minutes the music was turned off, the room gone silent. "Where are you, Richard?" the therapist asked.

"I'm driving to London," Richard answered. "I'm on the A40." His eyes were closed, his voice soft and dreamy.

"From where?"

"From Ross-on-Wye. In Wales."

"Why are you driving from Wales, Richard?" the therapist asked.

"I live there. With my family."

"And who is your family?"

"Amanda, my wife. She's called Mindy," Richard answered. "And my daughters Isabella and Willow."

"How old are your daughters, Richard? Are they children?"

"Both are in University," Richard said. "I see them on the weekends when I'm home."

"And where are you when you're not at home?"

Richard grinned in his sleep. "I travel all over the world, with my mates," he answered. James smiled a bittersweet smile to himself; he was prepared to hear how in his husband's dreams he was a mate only, albeit a close one.

"Can you tell me who your closest mates are? The ones who travel with you?" the therapist asked.

"There's Jeremy and James, and Andy," Richard answered. "Jezza is big, all shouting and noise. He's creative and funny, but he's also emotional, he likes to hide it under all the noise. James is quiet and smart, witty, has a sneaky sense of humour. We ride motorbikes together. Andy keeps us in line and moving forward. Deeply caring."

James noticed the therapist write a few notes. Dr. Bell and his assistants studied the EEG and marked a few places.

"Now, Richard," the therapist continued, "you have arrived in London. Where do you go?"

"To our office," Richard answered. "Everything we do is there." Richard then described the office at the therapist's prompting. Both the therapist and Dr. Bell looked over to James for confirmation, who nodded.

"Take a look around you, Richard," the therapist suggested. "Is there anything you see that doesn't belong?"

There was a lengthy pause. Then, finally: "Yes."

James leaned forward in interest.

"What do you see, Richard?"

Another pause. "Glass. I can see through it, but there are shadows inside." More notes, more marks.

"Can you see them?" the therapist asked. 

"I don't know what they are, but I want to go to them. There is light, it's flashing and swirling around me, it makes the glass look like it's bending and changing shape. The light is calling to me, telling me to step inside."

Dr. Bell walked over and whispered something to the therapist. "Richard, what are you feeling right now?" the therapist asked, calm.

"I want to go inside the glass, but...I know if I go Mindy won't be on the other side. Everything will be the same, but she won't be married to me. I won't know her.

Dr. Bell whispered to the therapist again, who nodded. "Richard," the therapist replied. "I want you to approach the glass. You will feel the desire to step inside, but you will not." Another pause. "Can you see what images are in the glass?"

"I see...a car. A big car. It has a big engine on the back."

"Where is the car?"

"An airfield." James' blood turned to ice. _Elvington_ , he thought. _The Vampire dragster_.

"Where are you, Richard?" the therapist asked.

"In the car. I want to go fast. I pull up at the line and get ready to go."

James stood and approached the therapist. "You have to stop," he whispered. "This is the accident. He can't go there."

"I push the button and feel the shove in the back from the jet engine," Richard continued. "It's loud. I fly down the runway. Out of the corner of my eye I see...a flash of light. The tyre comes apart. I try to save it, but I can't. I start flipping. I'm going to die. Then...the dark. I see more flashes, then nothing. I can't see anything else."

James was trembling visibly when he stepped out of the office. He remained in the waiting room while the therapist brought Richard out of the trance and Dr. Bell quickly gathered his equipment. It took awhile before Richard came out of the office, but he appeared pale and his eyes rimmed red, as if he'd been crying. He didn't want to speak, not yet.

Neither did James. He needed to calm down in order to drive home.


	5. Stepping Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find out the source of the visions.

There was silence.

Silence walking out to the car. Silence on the drive home. Silence once they arrived home, and during dinner, and when they went to bed that night. They drove into the office separately, so there was silence on the way in, but there was also silence that morning, too. Richard only had to look at the cold, hard light in those blue eyes, feel the icy stare, to know James was beyond upset. In fact, it was one of the only times in his life that Richard saw James May when he was genuinely, legitimately, pissed off. And when Jeremy tried to be helpful, feeling the palpable tension in the office and privately suggested not allowing personal disagreement to interfere with their work life, and James proceeded to tell him about the session (along with the suppressed memory and that Richard had been doing this for a month without telling anyone), things were worse.

" _Are you out of your bloody Goddamned mind, Hammond?!_ " he thundered, not caring if he could be heard by half the planet. "I thought we'd settled this! You didn't want to mention it again, so when we all started making little references to it and you laughed, I thought you'd come to accept what happened and that was it. Now you're digging into the day and looking for new memories? You are either completely mad or incredibly stupid, and I'm having a hard time deciding which!"

"Right, because I want to subject myself to memories of nearly dying and the dark places I went when I was in-between!" Richard shouted back. "It's all bloody _connected_ , Jezza! _All of it!_ " He turned to James, standing back quietly behind him. "You've not spoken to me since yesterday, you've been so upset over what you know and what I've not told you, and I'm sorry. But Jez, those flashes of light, _those same, damned flashes of light_ , I saw at Elvington, just before the tyre burst. I thought maybe it was just something reflecting; it was late afternoon and I was haring it down that runway. But these sessions have helped me recall it. What if what's happening to me has been happening for a much longer period of time than we've all thought? And why is it happening, period?" Before he could continue, Richard's mobile chimed. "A text from Dr. Jonas Bell," he read. "James...he wants to meet with both of us and the therapist right away, at his office." There was a pause while Richard continued to read. Jeremy and James watched as Richard's facial expression changed, growing worried. "He says he's discovered the reason. But I'm going to be shocked by it."

***

Jeremy and Andy couldn't be dissuaded from going with Richard and James even if there had been an armed guard and military vehicles, so they went to Dr. Bell's office at Oxford together. There they met Richard's therapist and entered the Psychology department as a team. Dr. Jonas Bell greeted them, along with his assistants, and several others, who were poring over what appeared to be EEG readings--Richard's EEG readings, their faces a mixture of astonishment, wonder, and almost mortal concern.

"You said you've discovered the cause of my problem," Richard mentioned, "but I would be shocked." He sat.

"Yes," Dr. Bell answered. "In fact, it's so shocking you may only wish to have your husband and your therapist with you when you hear it."

Richard looked over to Andy and Jeremy. "If you don't mind, Dr. Bell, I'd prefer they hear this with me," he stated. "They are aware of the problem that eventually brought you in. If something is wrong, it affects them directly."

"Very well," Dr. Bell replied. He paused. "Mr. Hammond, as you know I was brought into this case because your therapist wanted my experience in dreams and dream research. My assistants and I have been looking over your previous medical records, along with the video of your sessions under Hypnosis." Out of the corner of his eye, Richard noticed James frown slightly. "The results we found have been verified by my colleagues over here." He removed his glasses. "It's quite serious."

Richard felt his heart begin to race. "But, everyone said there's nothing physically wrong, not that would explain what's happening," he stammered.

"That's true," Dr. Bell replied. "There is no medical cause. And this is where everything takes a rather shocking turn." He handed over a result to Richard. "What you see in front of you is the copy of an EEG given to you in 2005, part of a medical examination." He handed over another result. "This EEG was taken after your accident in Switzerland, to verify no presence of head injury. And this," he handed Richard a third, "is the EEG taken by your neurologist recently. Now, look at all three together."

There was silence in the room as Richard, James, Jeremy, and Andy looked at the EEGs. There was a flurry of muttering and shaking heads. "How...how is this possible?" James stammered. "These are completely different."

"Theoretically, it isn't," Dr. Bell answered gravely. "The way it would be possible is if he was a different person." 

"I'm what?!" Richard laughed. "I'm considered many things, Dr. Bell, but I bloody well know who I am! I'm Richard Mark Hammond, and I was born on 19 December, 1969. I'm married to James Daniel May and I am a television presenter and writer. My hobbies are painting, music, and I love old motorbikes and Land Rovers. I have a 1963 Opel Kadett I named Oliver. I am certainly not anyone else, and I don't want to be."

Dr. Bell looked at him steadily. "Mr. Hammond, these people are consultants from Jodrell Bank," he said, indicating the others in the room.

"Jodrell Bank?" Jeremy asked. "Astronomy?"

"Physics," Dr. Bell corrected him. "Doctors Wilson, Heath, and Widdoes."

Richard shook their hands in greeting. "To correct Jonas slightly, we actually are professors of Astrophysics.," Dr. Widdoes replied. He was very tall and thin, with a thick wavy white hair that reminded Richard of James. "Dr. Bell called us in to confirm his suspicions. When he told us what he thought he discovered, we wanted to see the evidence for ourselves, including your sessions."

"Mr. Hammond, we are about to dive very deeply into the realm of science fiction here," stated Dr. Heath, a young black woman that drew comparisons to the model Naomi Campbell. She took a chair and sat across from Richard, her eyes glowing with fascination. "Mr. Hammond, have you ever heard of Interdimensional Windows?" Richard shook his head. "There are places, regions all over the world, where mysterious disappearances happen."

"Like the Bermuda Triangle?" James asked.

"Yes," Dr. Heath answered. "And very little is found to determine what happened. Like the Malaysian airline that went off course a few years ago and was never heard from again. Our department has been investigating these phenomena and believe that a space opens and whatever is nearby goes into it."

Richard blinked. "And where do they go?" He asked, unsure if he really wanted to know.

"Nobody knows," Dr. Heath answered. "It could be a different dimension, a different planet, maybe even a different universe. Until now we've never entertained the possibility of anyone entering an Interdimensional Window and unknowingly coming out of the other side....until...you."

Now all four of them roared with astonished laughter. "I can't believe this!" Richard replied, wiping his eyes once he got hold of himself. "This is some kind of prank, yeah? Andy or Jezza has put you up to this!" He began laughing again. "I believed it for a moment, you performed so well!" But the laughter died in his throat when he studied the faces of everyone around him; the faces of his therapist, Dr. Bell, and the Jodrell Bank people were serious, while Jeremy, Andy, and James were faces of shock, and in the eyes of James something else: fear. "Oh, God," he whispered, "you mean this." Richard sat back in his chair, feeling the world spin off its axis.

"Are you suggesting," Jeremy began slowly, "are you suggesting that Hammond comes from...someplace else? That he simply walked through one of these....windows without even knowing about it and assumed his world was normal?"

"The circumstances are so infinitesimal, so completely random, that they cannot realistically be duplicated," answered Dr. Wilson, a middle-aged man roughly Richard's height with balding hair and a greying beard and looking every bit the professor he was. "We've always theorized that if a person entered an Interdimensional Window and came out the other side, they would be instinctively aware the world they entered would be different. They would feel something is off in spite of life seeming normal."

"The breakthrough came in yesterday's session, when you recounted a suppressed memory from your 2006 accident," Dr. Bell said. Andy gave Richard a sharp look, not realizing Richard was delving into the accident itself; Richard ignored him. "In that session you recalled seeing flashes of light, correct?"

"Yes," Richard agreed, "but I thought it was a reflection of some kind."

"But after the accident," the therapist countered, "you saw more flashes of light just before you lost all consciousness and slipped into the coma."

"That's when we believe you slipped through the Interdimensional Window," Dr. Widdoes said. "You wouldn't have known any difference. You were in a coma. There had been an injury to your brain. For awhile your memory was severely compromised. By the time everything had sorted, you perceived this world as normal."

Richard appeared stunned, but James could see the giant hamster wheel turning in his head, trying to make sense of what he heard. "Wait," he stammered. "Wait wait wait. I have memories of my childhood! I was a Scout! I used to fix my bike and my brother Andy's bike! I was the neighbourhood daredevil! I went to Art College! I worked in local radio! I auditioned with Jeremy, for God's sake! Are you saying I don't really have those memories, that they actually belong to someone else?"

"No," answered Dr. Bell, "you do have those memories. All of your memories are yours. But, prior to your accident, those memories were made....somewhere else, and you don't remember crossing over to here. You are indeed Richard Mark Hammond, born 19 December, 1969, and a television presenter and writer. But somewhere else is _another_ Richard Mark Hammond, born 19 December, 1969. He is there where you should be, and you are here where he should be."

Richard ran a hand over his face. "It's a nervous breakdown, I'm having a nervous breakdown," he muttered. "I'm hallucinating, I must be bloody delusional. You're saying things that make no sense and can't possibly exist. You're saying to me I come from a different place and time, that another me is living a nearly identical life, and yet we crossed paths and neither of us are where we should be. I must be going mad. James, you have to take me to a hospital --"

"Mr. Hammond, this is a lot to take in, in fact what we're stating is indeed beyond our current reality, but I can assure you this is no delusion," Dr. Widdoes tried to reassure him. "We are really here having this discussion, and your colleagues are here to support you."

"Support, yes," Andy agreed, "but also confused. How in the hell is this even possible, assuming it is true?"

"Mr. Hammond, your accident took place on September 20, 2006?" Dr. Wilson asked. Richard nodded. "The only way this could have happened would be if the other Richard Hammond had a similar accident on September 20, 2006, at the same moment, one that would have put him into a coma."

"While both of you were in the coma, you traded places with one another via the Interdimensional Window," continued Dr. Heath. "When you awoke, neither of you knew the difference."

There was a long moment of silence in the room. "Why now?" Jeremy asked softly. "It's been years since that happened, but Richard only recently started having dreams of flashing lights."

"And of this other life," Richard added. "I'm married to a woman I know has been dead for 20 years, yet there she isn't. How can I have these memories of finding her, yet I've never really had the experience?"

"I guess..." James answered softly, and Richard could hear the emotion in his voice, "I guess it's like grafting a plant. Eventually the parts fuse and grow together. The two of you would share some memories."

"At the same time, both of you would have individual lives and memories," Dr. Bell remarked. "Your lives are identical, but with a few subtle differences."

"As for why you're having these visions now," Dr. Wilson continued, "I'm afraid I'm going to share some news you may not want to hear. Apparently you're seeing the lights and the glass and you're tempted to approach because the Interdimensional Window has opened up again. And the mistake that was made is trying to correct itself."

"In other words, the universe is trying to switch them back," Andy stated heavily.

"Exactly." Dr. Wilson paused. "Honestly, we don't know what will happen when that switch takes place. Hopefully you both will assume the lives in both places you have now, with no memory of being in the other life. There you would be married and a father, and you would have these mates. Any memory loss, or alternate memories, would be attributed to your collective brain injuries. But we could be quite wrong about the effects. It's possible both of you will need private therapy to handle things."

"You're speaking of all this as if it's an eventuality," Richard replied. "It's as if you're saying all this is some colossal mistake, that my life is a mistake! My life is not a mistake! My relationship and marriage to James is not a mistake!" He glared at the scientists in the room. "I refuse to go," he announced. "This is my life and it won't be taken away from me, and I damn well refuse to give it up."

Jeremy and Andy surreptitiously smiled. They had heard this tone of voice from Hammond before, and these scholars had never dealt with this stubborn little shit when he absolutely dug in his heels like he just had. Granted they all had this intense stubbornness when it came to matters they cared about, but right now Richard showed he had it when he needed it.

The scientists, however, were equally stubborn, and they showed it. "Of course your life is not a mistake, Richard," his therapist said. "I don't believe that is how they meant it."

"We don't mean to discount your life, Mr. Hammond," Dr. Bell replied. "And we don't mean to sound as if we're making light of how deeply this affects you and your loved ones. But unfortunately there is some certainty in the outcome. You are being lured back to an Interdimensional Window, and it's only a matter of time before you go through it."

"This is similar to what you would face with an illness," Dr. Widdoes stated. "You can fight, put up a brave struggle, but sooner rather than later this event will claim you. If you voluntarily step through, the transition would be far less traumatic."

Richard felt James slip his hand into his and hold it. He said nothing, but stared hard at the floor. Finally James looked up at Dr. Bell, his blue eyes glistening. "How could you make it less traumatic?" he asked, voice shaking.

"Our team has been working on a solution," Dr. Heath answered gently. "We have been building a machine that can allow an Interdimensional Window to open. We've been reluctant to open one without having a specific target, a brain wave pattern, because there are enough of them open randomly across the globe. Now we have one that can be specifically targeted. Once Mr. Hammond steps through, the window will close."

There were another few minutes of silence. "All of this has been a lot to digest," Dr. Bell suggested. "No doubt this is something you need to discuss privately. Give yourself a day or two to decide, but please don't take long. And contact us with your decision." The scientists left the room.

***

Richard and James were pros at appearing calm and effortless in public. Behind the closed and locked doors of their home in Hammersmith, that was another matter. 

The kettle was put on for some tea, but Richard noticed James' hands were shaking as he pulled the cups out of the cabinet. Richard could tell it was time for James to fall apart on him, so he walked over and pulled James into a tight embrace. Now he could feel James' entire body was shaking. "Would it help if I said that I love you?" Richard whispered.

"Absolutely not," James murmured, his face buried in Richard's neck.

Richard's hand found the back of James' head and stroked his hair. "What would you like for me to say?" he offered.

"Just...tell me this is some kind of nightmare," James answered. "That I didn't hear what I heard."

"I've been thinking that myself," Richard half chuckled. "I don't want to lose you. I don't want to go to a world where you don't mean to me what you mean to me here."

"And I don't want a version of you that I can't fully love," James replied. "But...if this transfer happens like they believe it will, will you even remember what we are?"

"You'll remember," Richard answered, wiping his eyes quickly. "That kills me. All of you will remember and I won't. It makes me feel like..." He stopped and stepped away.

"Like what?" Richard was silent. "Like what, Rich?"

Richard hung his head. "Like I wished I never survived that accident."

James grabbed Richard by the shoulders forcefully. "I never want to hear you say that, ever again!" he growled fiercely. Richard could see a hard, nearly desperate light inside his husband's eyes. "Death is not an option, it can never be an option, do you understand me?!" He let go of Richard's shoulders; When James continued his voice was softer, sadder. "When you had that accident at Elvington, I knew already I loved you, but you were still involved with women at the time, so I couldn't tell you. But you already knew that."

Richard nodded. "You told me once, long ago," he replied softly. "I never get tired of hearing that, however." He gave James a weak little grin.

James faced the stove. "I sat in that ICU while you were in the coma, praying silently that I hadn't lost you. _So many people_ prayed for you to live. You gave everyone joy. Then you woke up and recovered, and you gave everyone hope. Do you realize how powerful that is, that your life means hope to so many?" He turned back to Richard, tears in his eyes. "I feel that hope every morning when you open your eyes and look at me. And all that comes from you. And I don't give a toss who the scientists believe you are or where you came from, or what part of the universe dropped you here. I love _you_ and I married _you_ and I never want you to regret what happened after you emerged from that coma, okay?"

Richard pulled James back to him, wrapping his arms around him. "I never regret falling in love with you," he answered tenderly. "I never regret our life together, even when you're being a pedantic old cock who wants to sort his socks by colour or compare a Ferrari 430 Scuderia to Taste the Difference cheese. But I regret that I am going to hurt you. If those people are right and I'm not supposed to be here, and it's only a matter of time before I go back to where I'm supposed to be, then you're the one being hurt, and I definitely regret that." He looked sadly at James, caressing his cheek as his chin quivered, and that was the most heartbreaking image Richard had witnessed in years. They shared a gentle, loving kiss just as the kettle went off, then James broke away to make the tea.

That night, having spent most of it simply holding one another, both James and Richard slept. There was a small flash of light, followed by another, then another, joining together, melding. The flickers grew brighter. From deep sleep Richard awoke, noticing the lights dancing on the ceiling. He felt something calling him deep inside, trying to coax him out of the bed. He sat up to a swirl of colour--watercoloured blue, gold, white--all emanating from a single source in the room, the glass of a giant window. The call was irresistible, aching, cajoling and demanding. Richard began to crawl out of bed.

"Rich?" James murmured in his sleep. He turned to the side and placed his hand flat on the empty space where Richard had been, and that woke him up fully. Richard was standing by the bed, watching a dancing, flickering light. "Hammond?" James called to him. He watched as Richard slowly took one step toward the center of the room, then another. The light was beginning to surround him, bathe him in swirling colour. "Hammond!" James called sharply. Richard turned to look back, his face glowing with light. James desperately sprang across the bed and grabbed Richard's hand, giving a mighty pull. Richard was jerked away and landed on his back, James pinning him down by the shoulders. "You can't have him!" James shouted at the lights. "He's staying in this world, and I'll fight to keep him here!" The lights flashed some more, then flickered and faded, plunging the bedroom back into darkness. 

It was a moment or two more before James finally heard Richard say, "You know, you can let me up now." James then realized he still had Richard physically restrained and let him sit up. "You saw it?" he asked incredulously. "You really saw it?"

"Yes," James nodded furiously. "Oh dear God, I saw light! It was bathing you, changing you. I pulled you away from it." He held Richard close, stroking his hair. "What was that?"

Richard pulled away and looked at James; James could sense a resignation within, a sense of certainty. "The Window," Richard answered. "I couldn't resist the call. I had to approach."

"Is that...is that what you've been seeing all this time? What you've dreamt?" 

Richard nodded in agreement. "That other life is just on the other side of that window," he stated. "And that flickering light, it's the other world trying to get me to step inside. But until now I've been the only one to see it. So if you're seeing it now, and it was right here, that could only mean...God, James, I'm fucked."

And James believed Richard was right.


	6. The Crazy Path We Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard faces the inevitable.

"So, what do we do?" Andy asked when James and Richard told him and Jeremy what happened.

"I'm not sure there's anything you really can do, Wilman," Richard answered, his voice soft and dark. "In a way I'm just sitting on Death Row, waiting for the Governor to lift my stay of execution."

"There has to be some way to fight this," Jeremy replied. "Sitting around, waiting for a Window to open, just isn't acceptable. We have to find out a way to help you resist. "

"Jez, it happened in the dead of night, and I was nearly too late to stop it," James argued. "This phenomenon apparently can now happen at any point when we're least expecting it."

"The Window is seemingly moving closer to me," Richard stated. "The closer I am, the more difficult it is to resist the pull of the light and stepping into it." He sighed. "As much as I find this world around me a beautiful place, that I could really want for nothing...it may be pointless to resist." The other three men looked at him gravely. "You know, the world I'd apparently step into, that I dream about, doesn't seem so bad," he continued. "I have my career and you're my mates, and my life there is as much an adventure as it is here. I think I could be happy there. And the Richard I am there would adjust so easily to this world, too. I think he'll fit in here."

There was silence in the air for a couple of minutes. "What is this?" Jeremy asked. "I mean, seriously, what is this? You're giving up? You, Hammond? Of all the bollocks!" He stood and paced around the room, agitated. "I know you, Richard, and so does Wilman and everyone else in this office. You are fighty, and shouty, and as stubborn about things as anyone can be, but you never willingly let go of anything! You never give in or admit defeat. That's how you're sitting here now, not drooling into a cup in some convalescent home having your diaper changed! And I hardly give a flea-ridden rat's ass that you are not the Richard Hammond who's supposed to be here; in that other place, if he knows what you know, that Richard Hammond wouldn't just give up, either. They'd have to drag him into that window kicking and screaming, and he'd be sure to punch a few people in the face along the way!"

Richard paused. "Are you finished?" he asked quietly. Jeremy said nothing else. "Clarkson, you're right. I am stubborn, and I fight and argue and belabour a point, when I feel that situation is not inevitable. Things rarely are. But this point...guys, it is." Jeremy glanced over to James, who said nothing, but the look on his face indicated he'd had this exact discussion with Hammond. "Right now I feel like I'm someone who sees the moon for the first time, and I throw rocks at it. It's not going to make the moon go away, and all my fighting and shouting is not going to make that Interdimensional Window go away. I can ignore it, but one day soon the universe is going to find a way to force me through it. I can try to fight it, but quite frankly I'm tired. I can try to shatter it, but I think if there was knowledge on how to do it, the experts would have shared that already. Right now, this is the only thing I can do."

By no means was that the last conversation they had on this matter. Actually, very little work was made by the four of them that week; much of their time together in the office was spent debating, recalling fond memories, laughing over silliness. From the outside it would seem like the behavior of friends who were visiting a condemned prisoner; they knew this friend faced execution no matter what they did to change the outcome, so the best thing left to do was laugh with each other.

Richard continued to be visited by the vision of the Window, along with the same hypnotic light beckoning him inside. He would try to shut his eyes or turn away, but there were a few times when he was saved only by someone inadvertently walking in, and once or twice James found him slowly walking forward, as if in a trance. James would grab him by the shoulders and pull him backwards, then Richard would snap out of the trance and look at his husband and realize what had occurred.

Nights were hardly better. James would guard Richard at bedtime, watching for the lights yet again, not sleeping until it was time for Richard to wake up for breakfast, and then catching an hour or two. He was showing up completely knackered, leading Jeremy and Andy to question how long it would take until James had a heart attack.

So it was one day a week later that Richard went into his office and privately made a phone call: "Dr. Bell? Yes, this is Richard Hammond. Have the team at Jodrell Bank perfected that machine yet? I've thought about it....I can't fight it. A peaceful resolution is the better option. Yes....yes, please. Text me the directions and I will be there. Yes, thank you." Richard hung up and looked right up into the shocked blue eyes of James May. 

"Is this it?" he asked.

Richard nodded sadly. "I have to," he answered. "I can't watch you destroy yourself in an attempt to change an outcome that won't change."

"Damn it, Hammond, I'm an adult!" James shouted. "I can take care of myself!"

"I know you can. But you're trying to save me, and I can't really be saved, not from this. Meanwhile I'm close to losing you the way I lost Mindy. I can't bear for that to happen, whether I'm here or not."

"And what about me?" James responded. "You think it's going to be easy to be without you? Even if the other Richard comes back in your place, I won't really know him. He won't be you." James turned away. "When I finally had you come to me, that awful day when you were standing there half frozen, soaking wet, I thought maybe I'd won the lottery, you know? You were supposed to be in Barbados, getting someone else to marry you. You said you had lived half a life, and you explained why, but we got together and stayed. Now you want to go back to that half life?"

Richard sighed. "I don't want that," he whispered, reaching up and gently caressing James' cheek. "But do you know what else I don't want? I don't want the pain of suddenly being ripped away, to suddenly be gone. At least this way we can say goodbye to each other before I step into that window and have it done. This way I'll know at the last you are going to survive emotionally. Because if you're alright here you're going to be able to find love again. Whether with the other Richard or someone new, you will have love. But only if I do this my way. I need you to trust me on this. Do you? Do you trust me, James?" It took a long moment, and it was accompanied with a look so heartbreaking that Richard almost changed his mind, but eventually James wordlessly nodded. Richard reached up and gave him a gentle kiss.

"When do you have to do this?" James asked.

"Dr. Bell said the team at Jodrell Bank needed two days to get the machine ready," he answered. "So, I assume, day after tomorrow."

James processed the answer in his brain. "Then we have to tell Clarkson and Wilman," he replied. "They have to understand why I'm taking the next few days off, to say goodbye to the man I love."

***

That night was a proper boozer at home in Hammersmith with James, Richard, Jeremy, and Andy. There were plenty of stories and laughter, along with speculation about the other Richard Hammond, whether he would have these memories or if they could make up stories about him and then attribute his lack of memory to the brain injury. The next morning everyone was pretty much destroyed by the hangover, but Clarkson and Wilman both felt they sent Richard out in style.

Still nursing hangovers, Richard and James met with Doctors Bell, Heath, Widdoes, and Wilson, who notified them of their progress and indicated everything would indeed happen tomorrow. Richard asked many questions, but kept returning to one in particular: "Assuming this is successful and I do go through the window to this other life, what will happen to the other Richard? How will he come here?"

"Theoretically, the process will be simultaneous," Dr. Heath answered. "There won't be a Paradox where two of you are in the same place. You will be Richard Hammond in that world, and he will be Richard Hammond here."

"There may be some residual memory of the old world in the very beginning, but ultimately you will assimilate in every way," Dr. Wilson continued. "As you and the other Richard share memories, and your separate lives have been pretty much identical, soon you will not recall a separate world or life."

"I will recall," James replied, his voice sad. "I'll know the difference."

"Which is why, Mr. May, it's important that anyone with knowledge of this event remain sworn to secrecy," Dr. Wilson answered. "That speaks for you as well as Mr. Clarkson and Mr. Wilman."

"Assimilation is important here," Dr. Bell responded. "For the sake of their progress, if you feel you cannot adjust to the change that you maintain an emotional distance."

"But we're married," Richard argued. "If there's going to be full assimilation, Richard is going to be happy in marriage."

"It wouldn't be the first seemingly happy couple who suddenly files for divorce," Dr. Wilson stated. This statement irritated James, as cold and detatched as it was, that he immediately stood and left the room. 

Richard watched James walk out, then turned back to the scientists. "Well done," he said, his calm voice hardly hiding his irritation. "Well done. You do realize these are emotions you're stomping on, right? James has done nothing more all these years but be my mate, and support me, and love me! Surely you didn't all become scientists because you were emotionally stunted." He turned to leave.

"Mr. Hammond, we apologize for what appears to be insensitivity on our part," Dr. Bell said. "But what is of utmost importance here is the ability for the world to be normal. There are only a handful of those who know your situation, and if it were to become public knowledge that Interdimensional Windows exist, and that individuals could be affected, the results would be disastrous. It would create a type of panic nobody is prepared to handle. Therefore any indication that something is not what it appears to be must be kept away until full assimilation takes place. Otherwise one of your colleagues might be tempted to explain the problem. Your husband is a highly intelligent man, and I am certain when he considers things he will come to the same conclusion."

"And what if I don't come to the same conclusion?" Richard asked.

Dr. Wilson sighed and pursed his lips. "You are a reasonable man yourself, Mr. Hammond," he responded. "Surely you see the inevitability of the situation. Now that the machine is ready, I think you understand just how inevitable it is." And Richard did indeed understand, reading it in Dr. Wilson's eyes: he would either be forced through the Interdimensional Window unexpectedly, voluntarily through the machine...or forced into the machine itself.

Richard nodded slightly. "Yes, I do see your point," he stated, his voice calm. 

A few minutes later Richard walked out of the office to find James sitting in a chair in the hallway. His face was in his hands, a sign he was deeply into an anguished thought. "James?" Richard whispered, sitting next to him in the open chair and softly stroking his back.

"They're right, Rich, they're absolutely right," James told him. "I can't be around him, knowing what I know. I can never adjust, and I'm afraid I won't allow him to adjust. We...have to get a divorce, and I have to go away."

"James, no, don't say that," Richard tried to soothe him. Richard knew how horrendous a decision this was: James' parents never divorced and his siblings were in long-term marriages. While there were circumstances where divorce was necessary, in general not working out differences was a huge failure for him. James had waited for Richard for so long, it was speculated that James would _never_ marry if he didn't marry Richard; now he was suddenly divorcing him? "You will come to love him as much as you love me. And I know if you love me, you will be patient and wait for him to _become_ me. Then there will no longer be a question." He waited, continuing to stroke James' back. "Do you know, one of the stories I reported on in local radio was an elderly couple who got married. The groom had been married and his wife died. Years later he met the bride, and after they'd dated awhile he took her to meet the family. The kids knew instantly he needed to marry her, because even though she didn't look like their mother, the woman was so close in personality the kids swore that it was her. So it's going to be with this Richard. Sooner or later he will be me, and there is going to be so much love between you."

"How do you know?" James asked.

"Because I know," Richard answered firmly. "I know you are worthy of love." And because the previous conversation in the office had planted a seed in Richard that would have to come to fruition tomorrow. But just in case... "I want to spend tonight with you," he whispered, "recreating our first morning in Aruba." They had done this before, it was something they both enjoyed, and if this was indeed the last time they would make love to one another, it was the most romantic way to say goodbye.

James looked up at Richard, his eyes showing a mix of interest and the pain of what this request truly meant. "I think I'd like that very much," he whispered in response. 

***

Dinner was delivered and light in fare. Tonight there was no music, but a recording of beach sounds. The lights were dimmed and the doors locked as Richard emerged from upstairs, wearing the white linen suit he wore when he married James. James had changed into his suit earlier, looking nearly as beautiful as he had the first day Richard saw him in it. They had shared dinner before dressing, so now the time was for their own enjoyment.

They danced together, or as close as these two men who never danced engaged in dancing, a slow rocking together. There had been music during the reception that night, but the next morning there had been none, only the sound of the ocean. And so they swayed together to that sound, treasuring their closeness. James reached down and captured Richard's mouth, giving him the lightest and sweetest of kisses while at the same time removing his linen jacket. Richard smiled and returned the kiss, pushing the jacket from James' shoulders.

They took turns undressing each other in this way. Each kiss would cause one button on their shirts to open until both stood in the middle of the room with their shirts open, able to press the skin of their bare chests together, kissing deeply, their hands roaming over hair and clothing-covered bodies. James looked down into Richard's upturned face, his tender smile offering a silent invitation. Richard read that invitation and placed his hand into James' who led him upstairs to the bedroom.

Shirts were removed and hands continued to explore as both found themselves on the bed, their hands wandering over bulges in the front and trying to make the other more comfortable there. James rolled Richard over to cover his body with kisses, licks, and wandering hands, once again allowing him to learn the map of his husband's life. Richard felt a thrill surge from his spine as James removed the pants, leaving him naked and hard and desperate for continued touch, continuing contact. James removed his own pants, revealing that his own need was as strong as Richard's. "My God," Richard whispered in wonder. "So beautiful."

The lube emerged as both continued to cover and explore each other. James had his fingers enter and prepare Richard, opening him. Now they rolled back over so that Richard was back on top. Positioning himself, Richard looked down at his husband with dark eyes burning. "I belong to you, James," he whispered. He then slicked James' cock down with lube and pushed him inside, both groaning in pleasure. Richard paused, gathering control of himself, feeling James lovingly caressing his hips and thighs, body trembling with desire. Richard began a slow rocking of his hips, allowing himself the sensation of his husband inside, filling him, not only sexually, but emotionally. James felt all those sensations, too, becoming lost in joy and desire and love, pleasure overwhelming him. How James managed to find Richard's cock to stroke him, opposite the timing of Richard's thrusts up and down, was beyond a mystery, but he did, Richard writhing between the sensations caused between James' hand and the cock buried deep inside, hitting his prostate. 

Richard couldn't endure this exquisite torture any longer. He moaned, slamming up and down a few times as his hips bucked of their own accord. _JAMES!!_ he shouted into the room as his orgasm hit him like a tidal wave. He arched his back, eyes shut as he went beyond words, nearly screaming as he released. James grabbed Richard's hips and thrust upwards, suddenly falling away into oblivion as Richard's internal muscles squeezed tight. He felt as one with the man above him, joined together, both shaking, quivering masses, unable to tell where one ended and the other began.

When James came back into himself, he felt the weight of Richard collapsed on top of him, regaining his breath and strength. He kissed Richard deeply, rolling themselves, still joined, so they were lying side by side. There were few words during this time, just caresses and looks of amazement passing between them. This was going to be their last night together, and knowing this they were going to make all of it count. It was something they both knew.

They slept a little while. When they awoke, they made love again, this time Richard entering James, James wrapping his legs around his husband's waist. After another rest they took turns taking the other from behind. Each time they came there was knowledge of achieving unity with each other, wanting to ingrain into their souls, to be connected on a cellular level. Wanting there to somehow be a lasting imprint long after they were separated forever.

The sun came up. Their night together was over, and with the coming of the day, the end of their time together. Richard knew James was shattered at the prospect of what was to come, and he held James close all through making their final breakfast. In his dreams, when he was looking through the Interdimensional Window at his other life, Richard knew James made him breakfast on a fairly consistent basis, enough to know exactly how to poach his eggs. But that was different: they were only mates, James made Richard breakfast because he was in London for work, or he was missing Mindy, or he'd spent the night at James' house because they'd been out and maybe drinking a bit. It just wasn't the same as now, where breakfast was intimate and a moment in their married life. They ate breakfast holding hands, not yet wanting to break physical contact. Then came the shower and getting dressed.

At first everything was calm. Then, as James was in the shower and Richard was waiting to go in, he heard a quiet sob. There was no mistaking that sound. In seconds Richard had undressed and stepped into the shower, holding James as he wept, shedding his heart's blood. 

"I'm sorry, Rich, I'm so sorry," he kept saying.

"For what, Love?" Richard asked over the running water.

"I'm being so weak," he answered. "You need me to be strong right now, to help you do what you need to do. But I might never see you again, and..."

"Oh, James." He continued to hold James to him. Heartbreak was something he felt himself, and he could only hope assimilation would happen quickly so he wouldn't have to feel this pain. Assuming things went the way they were supposed to go. Richard cupped James' face in his hands. "Hey...hey....James, do you trust me? Do you? Do you trust me?" 

James sniffled, trying to compose himself. Finally he nodded.

Richard smiled faintly. "Well, then, trust me," he responded. " _Trust me_." He said these words, not sure if he was really saying them to James...or to himself.

***

Richard had demanded that Jeremy and Andy accompany him to the laboratory where the machine was housed. At first the scientists expressed reluctance. But, well, they discovered Richard Hammond's stubbornness in full display. So all four men showed up within minutes of each other at what looked like an old warehouse not far from Oxford. Jeremy took one look at Richard and James and concluded they'd had a very bad night, or a very good one, but he was too emotionally wrecked to even think of a tease. Richard was his mate, his partner in crime where it came to messing with James, occasionally his baby brother he needed to protect, but this was a time he couldn't protect him. The helplessness he felt at the moment had been something he'd felt before: after Elvington, when he questioned if Hammond would survive; at the hospital in Leeds, discovering Hammond was awake but had the memory of a goldfish, wondering if he would ever recover; after Switzerland, seeing the smashed, burning wreckage of a hypercar and believing Richard was indeed dead. Each time he felt it, he felt as if the planet had suddenly started spinning backwards, and it didn't get any better.

Andy uncharacteristically walked over to Richard and hugged him. Richard knew there was no way Wilman would ever let him see his face, but the shaking of his body betrayed his emotional state. Richard held him in a bear hug for longer than thought manly, feeling for the two who were not married to him.They were in pain themselves, having to watch him do this awful thing and change places, bring in a virtual stranger with his name and his face and life, but who really isn't him. Until the full assimilation took place it was going to hurt like hell.

"Look, chaps," Richard said as he gathered his three best mates to him, "I want you to promise me. If the switch happens there's going to be a transition. It's going to be hard. But promise you're going to think of him as me, all right?" All three nodded solemnly. "It's all going to be okay, trust me on this." 

They entered the building where Dr. Bell was waiting for them. He took them on a quick look around the building, then led them to the control room, where the other three scientists were seated. In another room a group of assistants were working on a very large structure. There was a ramp leading up to a circular rim roughly a quarter-sized London Eye. It vaguely reminded Richard of the portal from the movie Stargate. This, however, was much larger, and it was real. It had a real purpose, built specifically for him. And the scientists who built it were so determined to use it, he'd been threatened with using it by force if he should change his mind.

"Welcome, Mr. Hammond," said Dr. Wilson as he stood. "Before we start let's walk through what will happen, shall we?" He led Richard out into the main room, James, Jeremy, and Andy following. "Now, as you know we have a pattern of your brain waves, and this portal has been biometrically matched to you."

"In other words, this will only work on Richard and no one else," Andy stated.

"Correct," Dr. Wilson answered. "And as he is the first subject for whom we have a brain wave pattern, one knowingly different, he is the only one who will ever use this machine. In the future, if we can find others with a similar pattern change, we hope to use it on them." Jeremy and Andy exchanged glances with each other, both noticing Dr. Wilson's use of _on them_ and not _for them_.

"So...what do I do?" Richard asked. He rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans nervously.

"Once we start up the machine, your brain wave pattern will be read and bring up the Interdimensional Window," Dr. Wilson announced. "The Window will be quite visible, but it will not affect anyone else. Soon after you will begin to feel like the other side is calling to you, encouraging you forward. When you feel the pull is too irresistible, walk forward to the Window. Once you walk through to the other side, the machine will power down automatically. You will be on that side, and the other Richard Hammond will be safely home in Hammersmith, none the wiser."

"Taking up Richard's life," James added sourly.

"Do you have any questions?" Dr. Wilson asked, choosing to ignore James' comment.

"Can these three stay with me in here?" Richard asked. Dr. Wilson pursed his lips. "I want to say goodbye to them just before I go, and they'll give me encouragement."

"Your colleagues may be safer in the control room," Dr. Wilson argued.

"Is this machine dangerous?" Richard asked.

"Well, no."

"And you said the Interdimensional Window would be visible, but only I would be affected?"

"I did say that, but--"

"Then I want my mates here with me," Richard replied, levelling a hard stare at Dr. Wilson.

After a moment Dr. Wilson relented, then stepped over to Richard. "Just remember our arrangement," he whispered in Richard's ear, his back to the others. "Don't try anything or we will force you. Good luck, Mr. Hammond," he then said aloud, patting Richard's shoulder. He went into the control room with the other scientists and the assistants, who had finished their preparations.

The four were alone in the darkened room. These were going to be the final moments before it all changed, and the others around Richard knew it. The new Richard would change the dynamic, even though they would try to maintain what they had, and in the end it would take much longer than any of them had before they felt this close to him again.

Richard approached Andy, his eyes large and full. "Thank you, Andy....for everything in my life, really." Behind him, Richard could hear the machine begin to hum to life. "I wouldn't have what I have now without you." Andy found himself unable to speak, something all four men knew was quite unusual. Once again Andy pulled him into a firm hug.

The machine powered up with a consistent humming that grew in volume. Indistinct discussion was taking place in the control room, orders and instructions and readings being related and performed. The vibrations could now be felt through the floor and within their bodies. There was a thrumming within Richard's head that he found vaguely disturbing, slightly frightening. 

He walked over to Jeremy, whose shoulders sagged in dejection. "I hate this, Hammond," Jeremy shook his head, his blue eyes glistening with tears. "I really, really fucking hate this!"

Richard smiled. "Even now you bellow," he replied softly. "I hope the other Jeremy does that as much as you, you big ape." He got a bear hug from Jeremy then, bigger and tighter and harder and more emotional than the episode when he came back to the show after Elvington. When Richard pulled away the tears were on Jeremy's cheeks. 

"Mark my words," Jeremy said. "If I somehow find out you've fucked up in that other world, I'll find a way to come there and kick your arse."

"No doubt the other Jeremy might beat you to it," Richard answered back.

A small glow began to emanate from the portal, the center taking on its own light. The light grew within the portal, swirling, changing, looking as if it were a pool of water. Colours began to form, blue and white and gold, swirling and flashing. Then the light took form and flared, revealing what appeared to be a large window. Andy and Jeremy stared at it with a combination of horror and awe.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Jeremy gasped. "Wilman, are you seeing what I'm seeing?!"

Andy went to his knees and made the sign of the Cross; later he would wonder when the last time was he'd done that. "Oh my God," he whispered.

In that explosion of light Richard saw James. He was staring at the light, shining brightly upon his upturned face; from the portal itself a wind came up, blowing his hair around. Tears were streaming down his face with the knowledge of what this meant. 

Richard walked over to James, and they collided in a fierce, all-claiming kiss. Their embrace was firm, two lovers about to be parted, one symbolically going to his death, leaving the other behind. "I belong to you, Richard," James told him, caressing his face, his fingers trying to memorize by touch.

Richard nodded. "We belong to each other," he replied. "I love you." He then pulled James back to him for another embrace. Jeremy made note that they stayed close like this for a long moment; there was something they said to one another privately, but nobody could hear what they said. Then they let go of each other, James giving a nod of confirmation. Richard then turned toward the ramp. But Jeremy's emotional state did not allow him to see the hard, determined look on Richard's face, or how his dark brown eyes had actually grown very bright.

What Richard saw directly in front of him was enormous. And intimidating. The ramp stretched on many feet at a gentle slope. The portal it led to seemingly had the circumference of a local fair's Ferris Wheel. He felt swallowed by the size and he was nowhere near it. And when the time was right he was to simply walk up to it and just step through. Just leave everything he ever knew and all the people he loved, walking through to a new existence where, for a time, everyone will think he's gone quite mad. And if he didn't volunteer to give up all of it, those scientists in the control room would force him.

Unless he broke it.

Richard began to feel the light beginning to entice him and he took a step forward. Now James had joined Jeremy and Andy on the other side of the room, watching intently. It swirled, the light flashing in patterns meant to dazzle him, draw him closer. The shadows that had first appeared in the Window were now taking place. He could see the home in the Welsh Countryside he'd dreamt of, could see parts of his life in the other world, two young women who were the daughters he was meant to have. He saw the friends not part of his career. He saw Mindy, so beautiful and smart and amazing and alive. He saw Andy, the creative rock. He saw Jeremy, every bit the force of nature there as he was here. He saw James, his quiet steadfastness. His dancing blue eyes.

He took more steps forward. The light and colours were surrounding him, covering him, bathing him until details were being overwhelmed and erased by the bright lights. The pull, the enticement, the hypnotic trance it was trying to deliver was becoming more insistent. Now the colours were seemingly wrapping around him like a cocoon. Richard took a deep breath and looked over at James, giving him a gentle, beatific smile, one that few people had ever seen. And as he took one more step forward, now so very close to the Interdimensional Window, when the pull was strongest and most difficult to resist, his face nearly obscured by radiant, flashing light, Richard nodded to the room.

And turned his back.

He could see the faces in the control room, faces of shock and annoyance. Their body language conveyed shouting and orders to turn around and face the Window again. He could see Dr. Wilson, in slow motion, running toward the door. Then he saw Jeremy, Andy, and James scatter. Jeremy blocked the door as Dr. Wilson opened it, and Jeremy physically restrain Dr. Wilson. An assistant who managed to squeeze into the room was met by Andy. Then James was meeting him, grabbing his hands, and trying to pull him forward, back towards him.

The tug-of-war was horrendous, more difficult than imagined by either James or Richard. The wind that emanated from the portal began to howl, trying to force Richard and James apart. Meanwhile the force from the Window was trying to pull Richard backward towards it. The colours, warm and inviting, had gone, replaced by nearly-blinding light. James continued to pull on Richard, his feet sliding on the ramp, Richard slowly being pulled back. Their eyes locked. And somehow James found strength in himself he didn't know he possessed. He planted his feet and stopped sliding.

There was a loud, stressed groaning from the machine, the sound of structural stresses and weakening. The Interdimensional Window began shrinking, the light fading, getting smaller itself. James gave one hard pull away, and the tension broke. Richard flew into James and they fell backwards to the floor, rolling off the ramp as the light suddenly flashed off, plunging the room into darkness. This was followed by a sudden flare of light and a blast of explosive force as the Interdimensional Window shattered. Everyone was knocked off their feet. The gust of wind was violent. The ground seemingly bounced. And then, as James covered Richard's body with his, knowing for sure they were all about to die, the portal collapsed, arches of metal and girders falling everywhere. The crashing went on forever. Then there was silence.

At first there was silence, then, slowly, everyone began to stir. Jeremy found it difficult to see at first--there was dust and smoke in a fairly dark room. He stared up at the remnants of the portal. More than half was gone, rising up to an arch then falling away into nothing. With all the debris it looked as if a bomb had fallen on the room.

"Wilman?" He found Andy against the far wall, stunned by the force of being thrown against it. "You alright, old man?"

"About as well as can be expected," Andy answered, deadpan. He stared around him a moment. "Wow...that happened," he muttered. "If we were trying to be ambitious and successful in destroying that machine, I'd say we achieved that. Have you seen Hammond or May yet?"

"Not yet. Though I doubt..." Jeremy couldn't finish.There's no way his mates could have survived such carnage, not realistically. Richard and James had been awfully close to that damned thing when it was destroyed. Some would question the point of wrecking such an infernal contraption if it was only going to lead to your death, but Jeremy understood; if it had been used and was successful, more would have been built, more reasons given to justify using it. Richard had suspected some of the scientists of having motives beyond that of scientific curiosity, and, like Jeremy, could see how the motives could be twisted by the means that became reality; just because you could do something doesn't mean that you should. So, like Hammond, Jeremy and Andy began to question Wilson's rationale, even more so when they listened to him earlier. Jeremy realized Richard's idea needed to go forward, even if death was the result. Now it was done, and with satisfaction Jeremy knew nobody else would use it.

All the same, he searched the destruction, hoping against hope.

***

Richard opened his eyes and looked around him at the results of his defiance. There was a twisting maze of destruction around him, steel and broken glass, shattered girders and holes in the roof overhead.He had hoped to burn out the machine, make it where not only that it couldn't be used, but if the scientists rebuilt it and got some other poor sucker involved with his brain waves, he'd have the answer to resist if that person really didn't want to go. But he didn't realize he was capable of all this.

He remembered the opposing forces felt like he was going to be torn in two; that he could see Dr. Wilson trying to run out of the control room and physically stopped by Jeremy. The pressure to simply turn back around and walk through the portal was persistent, that more than anything he wanted to comply, and only James' firm hold, the look in his blue eyes of determination that allowed a tiny sliver of his heart and soul to finish what he set out to do. He wasn't going, damn it, and that was final--not leaving the world he knew, not leaving Andy, not leaving Jezza, and not leaving the one he loved more than everything else, the one who now had a death grip on him and was being slowly pulled forward with him as he slid backwards. That's when he'd planted his feet and refused to slide backwards anymore, when the opposing forces worked the hardest. Then he was pushed forward into James' arms, and he could see a look of terror in his eyes, a look James probably wasn't even aware he flashed. Something big was happening behind Richard, but he didn't have time to turn and see it. James was diving, covering Richard with his own body, then there was rumbling and crashing and darkness. He closed his eyes, ready to die.

But he didn't die. He opened his eyes and looked around, realizing James had covered him and now wasn't. He looked over to see James just to the side, unconscious. "James?" he called. Richard turned James over and began patting James' cheeks. "James, hey...come on. Come on, Love. Wake up." Richard felt for a pulse and felt one, steady and strong. "Wake up. Wake up, James." In a moment James' eyes fluttered open, brown eyes met blue, and both smiled. James sat up, pulling Richard to him in a hug. "How are you?" he asked.

"I'm okay," James whispered. "Glad I didn't lose you."

Richard chuckled shakily. "I'm glad you didn't lose me, either." He couldn't see over the wreckage. "Looks as if we've made a mess of things."

James nodded. "But it did get the desired result," he finished. "Where's Jezza and Wilman? Did they make it?"

"I don't know," Richard told him. "I'd like to look for them, but...." he sighed, " I can't see a way over to get out. And I would really like to get out of here before Dr. Wilson begins looking for us."

"In that case, Mr. Hammond, sorry to disappoint you." Dr. Wilson stood over Richard and James near the top of the ramp. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"It appears that we've broken your machine a bit," James answered.

"You have, and made a big mess at the same time," Dr. Wilson replied. "But that doesn't mean the portal can't be rebuilt."

"Maybe," Richard answered back. "But I'm afraid you're going to do it without me as a test subject. I've thought about it, and I simply have too much here. And I'm sure the other Richard would agree with me. And now I know what to do to resist if that Interdimensional Window returns. The key is actual resistance, Dr. Wilson. If you don't want to step through the Interdimensional Window if you see it, you must simply fight it, say no. I said no, and I broke it."

"You did indeed break this one, Mr. Hammond, but it will return. And by then the portal will be rebuilt. And you will not break it next time."

Richard glared at him. "Are you trying to develop a sense of humour at this late stage, Dr. Wilson, or have I lost my hearing? I told you there won't be a next time. I know what I must do, and I can do it without you. And you cannot force me."

"You will find you are quite incorrect," Dr. Wilson answered. "You can be forced, and you will."

"Now wait a minute!" James shouted. "Hammond is an adult, quite rational, and a private citizen. You can't just force him to be your lab rat in your experiment if he wishes."

"We are noted scientists, Mr. May," Dr. Wilson argued. "I think you'll find we can do effectively anything we want, especially if there is a potential use of our discovery by Whitehall. That includes holding Mr. Hammond indefinitely."

"Over my dead body," James replied defiantly. He stepped in front of Richard protectively.

Dr. Wilson atched an eyebrow. "If necessary," he stated, nonchalant.

"Oh no you don't," Jeremy replied, stepping up to Dr. Wilson and demonstrating just how intimidating six-foot-five could actually be to the standard Englishman. "You're going to find more than one willing to keep Hammond away from you." Meanwhile, Andy helped James climb the debris to the ramp, who in turn helped Richard. All four now stood in front of the scientist as the other scientists in the damaged control room looked on. Without a word they turned and made their way to the door out.

"You can't just take him," Dr. Wilson called after them, sounding petulant. "He is an important test subject and vital to our wotk. He must work with us!"

Richard turned back. "Your test subject has a name," he replied. "He has a life. He has an identity. And he intends to keep all of them."

"If you don't like it, stop us," Andy called over his shoulder as they left.

***

It had been a fun few months away.

James met Richard in the parking lot of the motel in North Georgia where they'd spent the night; it was James' turn to pay for accommodation and turn in keys. As neither man had ever been the type into the wanton destruction of hotel rooms, this was just an exercise. They were free to resume their adventure, a motorbike trip across America

Richard was strapping on his helmet, making adjustments to all his accoutrements to help keep him safe and comfortable while riding. This was something he and James had done for decades, both experienced bikers, and he had it down to a science. "Everything good?" He asked.

"All good," James answered as he began his checks. "Though I admit I still have trouble understanding the regional accents, even all these years later. I think the desk clerk wished us a good ride."

Richard nodded. "The waitress at the diner said this hotel has a lot of tourists riding through," he said. "In the autumn the tourists come look at the leaves."

"We'll be back at work by then," James noted. "And the scientists will be too busy with the new semester to put much effort into coming for us." Richard groaned slightly at the reminder of exactly why they were doing this. Riding across the United States wasn't just a holiday between work sessions, it was a way to stay away from Dr. Wilson; there had been a fear that, had Richard stayed in England, the scientists from Jodrell Bank would have found a way to keep him there until the portal could be rebuilt and he could be sent back. Nobody wanted to speculate on if Dr. Wilson might even resort to kidnapping to do so. The thought was distance would make him safer, and Richard had wanted to ride across the US, and it was only natural his husband James would accompany him. By the time Wilson and Company figured out he was beyond their reach, filming would resume, they'd all be on location, and Richard would well and truly be safe from them. James strapped on his helmet. "Where to next?" He asked.

"Into Tennessee," Richard answered casually. "We can find a McDonald's for breakfast, or that place people call...The Awful Waffle?"

James threw back his head and laughed hard. "I think they call it Waffle House, you spanner. And I think we might be riding awhile before we find one. In spite of what Southerners claim, you can swing a dead cat and not hit one." Now it was Richard's turn to laugh, really laugh, and James was happy Richard was relaxed enough to do it. Climbing aboard his bike, James took a look at Richard and felt a rush of gratitude. This wasn't supposed to be happening right now, not with this Richard. He was supposed to be helping the other Richard become who he wanted, the man he fell in love with and married and whom a good part of the world adored.

Thank God this Richard showed him once again that he was much more clever than his public persona.

The night before he was to walk through the Interdimensional Window, the night they'd spent together making love, Richard lay in James' arms and told the full story of how Dr. Wilson had threatened him with being forced through. He shared his speculation about resistance, could the Interdimensional Window actually be broken, meaning he and the other Richard would never switch, would stay in their collective worlds. James had been terrified at the outcome, but he was equally terrified of what would happen if Richard stepped through the window. They videoconferenced Jeremy and Andy their ideas. Like James, both were afraid of the outcome, but more afraid of the other outcome, so they agreed to take part.

Still, that morning there were doubts as they parked and met each other. All four knew this was indeed dangerous, that one or all could die. All four also knew that none of this could actually work, and Richard was as good as stepping through the window very soon. Or forced to step through very soon. But it did work, Richard was able to leave, and that afternoon it was decided Hammond and May should temporarily go on the run.

"You ready?" Richard asked, snapping James back into the present. James nodded. "Great. We'll make some miles today, and tonight I'll show you just how much I appreciate you coming along with me." James smiled shyly. "What? You don't think I do?"

"I know you do," James replied softly. "But...I just like to hear you say it."

Richard's facial features softened. "I've wanted to do this forever," he said, "ever since Stephen Fry drove it and talked about having to take in the size and variety of the land mass. And it's been a dream come true to do it. But there's a difference between enjoying it alone and enjoying it with someone else. And I can't think of anyone else who'd understand it more."  


James gave a smile that was gentle but radiant. "You know, just for that, when we do find a Waffle House breakfast is on me." He started his bike.

Richard reflected the smile back to James. "That was the idea," he muttered as he started his own bike.

They avoided the Interstate in favor of side roads, choosing to admire the scenery of fields and farms and rolling green hills. Richard allowed James to lead for awhile, Captain Slow setting the right pace to admire the view. Richard also admired the view in front of him, too. Technically he was on the run, and yes, as soon as this trip was over they were launching right back into work, so there really wasn't much of a break, but it was also a great thing to happen. He got to be with the man he loved for an extended time, just them alone. And he got to do what he loved, see a country he wanted to see, riding through it on a motorbike and really looking at this world he nearly lost. In his career he'd seen so many places; now he was going to see them again with fresh eyes. All with one of his best mates and the man riding in front of him, the man who was his husband.

Richard was happy.

He noticed that there was actually a bit of separation between him and James while letting his mind wander; James was actually cresting a hill that he was just beginning to climb. An SUV was just descending the hill in the other lane. Behind Richard there was a flash of flickering light--a reflection, perhaps. Then there was a sound of an explosion as the SUV had a blowout. The high center of gravity suddenly shifted, causing the vehicle to overturn and slide into his lane. Richard knew instantly what to do, something all riders had to be prepared to do: if he didn't put the bike down and take his chances he was going to strike the SUV broadside, like a fly pancaking on a brick wall. So he wrenched the bike down to the road. The bike slid ahead of him. Richard slid on the road. 

The bike struck the SUV.

And the Interdimensional Window seemingly following Richard was waiting.


	7. We Journey a Different Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember the nightmares in chapter 1? This picks up where that leaves off...or...this is Richard's other life.

Richard was spinning. He was out of control and spinning and preparing for a hard landing and realizing people didn't just walk away from crashed helicopters. He thought about Mindy, hoping to have one final good memory before he died.

The helicopter landed hard in a field, quickly turning onto its side. The rotors dug into the earth, throwing up clouds of dirt. Then all was still. Richard had been stunned by the force of the impact. When it was quiet he opened his eyes and made a self-check. He didn't smell fuel, didn't sense fire, nothing appeared obviously injured. But the restraints that held him in place during the crash had jammed, and he was stuck, lying sideways in his seat.

There was movement outside the crash. A man approached, mobile to his ear, staring inside the helicopter. Richard waved to the man, feeling a bit sheepish, then he saw the man's eyes go wide, whether he didn't really expect to find anyone alive in the wreckage or he recognized who was waving back to him, Richard wasn't sure. Soon, however, rescue crews were extracting him from the remains of his helicopter and transporting him to hospital.

Mindy showed up a few hours after he was admitted, followed by Jeremy and Andy. He was essentially unhurt but being kept overnight for observation, as most victims of helicopter crashes didn't tend to walk away completely unhurt, if at all. A point James made when he arrived and began dithering over him. Mindy shrugged later when James had gone to fetch tea, reminding Richard James was always that way, and it was one of the things everyone just accepted as a nice thing. But somewhere down deep inside, Richard wondered if there was something more to the goofy warmth he felt over his mate's mothering demeanor.

He was released a couple of days later, no sign of internal injury present and resumed work on _The Grand Tour_ shortly after. Richard, Jeremy, and James continued to film all over the world, Andy put it all together, polishing it all up to a nice shine--an act Jeremy sometimes equated to polishing turds, which made certain nobody got overly impressed with themselves--and those shiny polished bits were handed over to Amazon, who continued to be quite happy with the profits they made.

As life went on, Richard and Mindy actually managed to grow in their love for each other, remarkable considering the length of their relationship. All around them could see the extent of their happiness together, giving Mindy all the credit for keeping their life together during those years when Richard wasn't home much, or when the accident had scrambled his brain and it had to be pieced together again. Everyone loved her tenacity, her fierceness, and her overwhelming love, especially with Richard beside her. And all that extra love and care was given to Izzy and Willow, who continued to grow into spectacular young women--fearless, tough, brave, intelligent, loving, a perfect combination of Richard and Mindy. They watched as their girls grew up and went out into the world, proud to realize they were actually better versions of themselves. 

But there were times when Richard wondered if there was something more, something different that he was missing. He was absolutely happy with his life and marriage and family, doing everything he wanted to do. But sometimes he'd dream there was something else, a different life that had also made him blissfully happy. It was the same as the life he knew, but in some ways different. But whenever he tried to figure out what it was that was so much different, he could never quite put his finger on it. 

He figured whatever it was, it somehow had to do with James. His relations with Clarkson and Wilman felt the same as in his dreams, but there were times when James would laugh a certain way, or talk about a new bike he was thinking of buying, or James would look at him when he was especially chuffed about whatever, his blue eyes dancing and glittering with delight, and Richard would feel something shift within him, at the very base of his being. This phenomenon was especially true if Richard had arrived at work just in time to greet James as he pulled up and parked next to him in his Panda, and through the open window he could hear classical music on the stereo. James was usually playing Bach, but Richard would feel it the strongest when he heard Chopin's first piano concerto, or if was Rachmaninoff, that sure and certain feeling there was something more between them than friendship.

As for James, if he was feeling an inkling of the same, he was successfully hiding it. Granted, James was always a bit of a closed book, letting people in his life while rarely disclosing much of himself, but those closest to him could see and read the Hieroglyphics that were uniquely James May. The necessity of the working relationship lasting decades meant Richard, Jeremy, and Andy had become proficient at reading them, so it surprised Richard to find no reciprocal feeling of anything more than a close friendship. Richard and James still pulled pranks on Jeremy, still got drunk together and bought stupid shit online, still bought copies of the Auto Trader and circled cars they knew the other would abuse them unmercifully over, would post videos on DriveTribe winding up fans who 'shipped' them, but to Richard there was always more, so much more. And for the life of him he couldn't figure out what. But it was there, lurking.

Richard sat with Mindy one afternoon at home in Bollitree, the sunlight warm and golden, and spoke of it, such was the honesty in their marriage. Richard had questioned whether there were any memories he'd perhaps blocked from before his accident, or if something had happened during his recovery that he couldn't remember. Mindy said no, that if he'd had the courage to share with her the unfortunate incident with Bryan from art college, then he'd shared everything that mattered. In that moment, her understanding made Richard love her all the more, as deeply as he loved her already. So he left it alone, never questioned James, and accepted his suspicions as suspicions only. Over the years Richard settled down into retirement in Wales, saw James and Jeremy regularly, and enjoyed the happiness of his life.

***

Then it started to turn. Five years into retirement, on a rainy afternoon when Richard was spending time painting and Mindy had just come in from tending her horses, the call came in. Richard heard Mindy scream, then came running in as she dropped the phone. "It's Andy Wilman. It's Andy!" she told him tearfully, her entire body shaking.

Richard picked up the phone, knowing already from his wife's reaction it had to be bad. "Andy? What is it?"

"It's Jezza...Rich, he had a crash...he's dead." Jeremy had been on holiday in Italy, ran his Lamborghini off the road and hit a tree. Richard was stunned. Jeremy and Andy had pretty much given him everything in his life since Izzy's birth. He had been Mindy's help when he'd been in a coma, coordinating everything, keeping unnecessary people away from her when she needed to concentrate on Richard. He and Andy had been the ones to stand up to criticism that _Top Gear_ needed to go because of Richard's accident, and defended him publicly when he made the odd statement that drew fire (even if they engaged in a monumental bollocking over it in private). Clarkson was his own force of nature, conceivably as immortal as Richard had appeared to be. And he was gone, just...gone.

Like everyone else, Richard mourned Jeremy, appearing in interviews and TV chat shows to talk about him and the epic camaraderie between James, Jeremy, Andy, and himself. There were others, former crew members who were called on to talk about what it had been like to work with him. James gave a few interviews, but like Richard he needed to grieve, and Richard had always been a better interview. But James did write a column about Jeremy that was so moving, so poetically emotional, Mindy had it printed and framed. Even so, it had taken quite awhile for Richard to turn the corner on his grief. Just in time to say goodbye to Andy Wilman. He had been sick when Jeremy was killed, now his illness took hold. He was gone within six months.

A few years later Richard lost Mindy. Around the time they were burying Andy, she found a lump in her breast and under her arm. She fought hard, so very hard, reminding everyone yet again of her endless courage and strength. She fought long enough to watch her daughters marry and have careers and become mothers themselves, for Richard and her to enjoy their lives as grandparents. But when the time came, when Mindy's body could no longer allow her to fight, Richard took her on one last trip, on the Orient Express to Venice. There she got to say a proper goodbye to Jeremy Clarkson for supporting her when she'd needed it, and she got to say a proper goodbye to Richard. Then Richard took her home to Bollitree. She was at home, surrounded by her family, when she died.

Richard was devastated at Mindy's death, and there had been some quiet speculation whether his broken heart would have had him following her soon, as many men had who'd lost partners they'd been with for many years. It was James and his steadfast friendship who helped him. He was the sounding board, the one who would take him to the pub and spend time fixing up bikes to take his mind off things,who would still abuse him over choices in the Auto Trader. They had a companionship that Richard's family could see sustained him, though they were mates only. And Richard would spend time with his grandchildren, loving them as living extensions of Mindy, because Isabella and Willow were extensions of her. Being around them made her alive again. Richard had those memories and he had the company of James, a friend who had become so much more than a friend. They enjoyed being around each other, these two old men, who understood each other in a way only two of the oldest friends possibly could.

Three years later Richard heard the news of how James had simply been out for a walk down the street in Hammersmith. He'd stopped, looked down at his arm, apparently realizing what was happening, and then he simply collapsed. It was just that fast, and then he was gone. Richard was inconsolable. All his mates had left him now, mates who'd understood him and egged him on, who'd taken the piss and yelled at him and encouraged him and stayed by his side tending to him. It was hard enough for Richard to miss the orangutan's familiar bellow of _Oh, for God's sake!_ or _Hammond, you idiot!_ without no longer hearing James quietly mutter _Oh, cock_ when something turned out wrong. Now nobody was left who would cheat when playing board games, or to call him Hamster, or openly mock his height, or the way he drove, or that he actually named a car (which men never, ever did). Over the years Richard had made friends with others, but they could never equate to the friendships he shared as a younger man. Most especially with a pedantic, compulsive Spaniel who he looked at and always knew there had been something fateful between them, something life-altering and special. The loss of James left in Richard a hole that would never be filled. If Mindy had been alive she would have come close, but not now. The pain was something that would stay with him always, making the days when the lasting aches and pains of his past accidents, always living on the edge long after he should have stopped, seem darker and colder.

As depressed as Richard was in his loneliness, as despairing in his grief, he knew suicide was never an option. He had kids and grandkids to consider. It would have made no sense to his daughters, most especially Isabella, who was just barely old enough to remember the darkness of her early childhood, watching her father struggle to make himself normal again for her. For him to simply give up now and end things just couldn't happen. So Richard lived on, even getting to hold his newborn twin great-grandchildren Amanda and James. And at night he'd dream of Mindy whispering in his arms as he came down from their lovemaking, or sharing adventures with James and Jezza. And occasionally of a light and colours that swirled around him and flickering light that drew him closer.

***

Richard was in his nineties, his brown eyes still lighting up with interest and possessing a wicked sense of humour, when he made himself ready for bedtime one night. He reflected on the fact he could never see himself this age, either because he never wanted to imagine himself as an old man, or because all his youthful exuberance or daredevil personality was never supposed to let him live this long. But he had, seeing the two women descended from him raise children of their own, seeing through them his eternity. And they reflected the best of what he and Mindy had given out: both were fearless, kind, intelligent, and calm, much more their mother than him. They were sure to need all of that pretty soon.

As he turned out the lights and settled down, Richard reflected on himself. He had lived a spectacular life, full of love and adventure, humour and happiness, and, God, he hoped he'd given back as much as had been given to him. Of course there had been some rough times along the way, a full life is never all rainbows and unicorns, as James would say. But on the whole he had lived a good one. In the waning days of it he could look back and say there were few regrets, few things he'd left undone. Richard's entire life had been a Bucket List, with pretty much everything checked off.

He thought about his mates, Andy and Jeremy and James. James was about as close as Richard could come to a regret. There was something there between them, something that James would deny, accusing him of being both a girl's blouse and totally barmy to boot. But it was there, hiding so far down underneath nobody could see it, but he alone sensed it. It was there, and it was deep and profound, and Richard never could figure out the puzzle. Richard was at times not considered a very bright man, at least compared to the three brilliant men associated with him (though he was definitely smarter than his image), but it disturbed him to not figure out a puzzle, and this had been the most complicated puzzle of all. Richard resigned himself to never being able to work it out now and fell asleep.

_That night his dreams were happy. It was a celebration as a much younger man, a time when some would actually refer to him as beautiful. Mindy was there, radiantly joyful, sweet and maternal, Izzy and Willow were there, young, wide-eyed little girls who could still find wonder in the simplest of things. Andy and his wife were sharing a joke with Jeremy, whose laughter was causing his entire six-foot-five body to double over. There were many other friends and associates there with him._

_From behind Richard could make out flashing light. He looked at everyone who'd gathered, who were smiling and nodding in reassurance. Richard turned. Before him was another Interdimensional Window, light and colours swirling around him. He could see a form in the window._

_He felt a hand gently place itself on his shoulder. Mindy looked at him and smiled. "It's time, Rich," she said softly._

_"Go on, Hamster," Jeremy agreed, his voice far more gentle than Hammond could ever remember._

_Richard approached the window tentatively. As he got closer the form became clearer. Then, he saw clearly: James. This was the pebble that falls from the top of a mountain that leads to an avalanche. From that one image alone Richard suddenly understood everything--his connection to James, his other life, the purpose of the Interdimensional Window. All of it came to him immediately, yet it wasn't overwhelming, it wasn't so dense in the knowledge that it became difficult to take in. It was just there, that understanding. He knew this moment was the most intelligent he would ever be, and that everyone at this exact moment felt this way. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing he'd ever encounter in his life. And now it was time to step through that window, to be with James, to be in that life. Richard took a look back at those who gathered, then he grinned and nodded._

_He stepped forward._

***

"Rich?! Oh cock...Richard?!" The voice sounded panicked. He couldn't quite open his eyes to see who was shouting, but he thought he could recognize the voice. 

Awareness came back to him. He could feel the ground underneath him, could faintly smell grass and a slightly stronger smell of fuel. He felt hands carefully touching him, apparently inspecting him for injury. Richard opened his eyes to look up into the eyes of a paramedic. He was lying on his back, on the ground; glancing just past the paramedic, Richard could see the wreckage of his own bike, lying on its side next to an SUV also lying on its side. He could also see a police officer trying to hold back James, who was trying to push forward. "Oh, shit," Richard muttered. "I binned it, didn't I?"

The paramedics at the scene asked Richard many questions, and since Richard knew the purpose of these questions he concentrated on answering them. They appeared impressed he had the presence of mind to put his own bike down rather than risk something worse happening. Still, he was placed on a backboard and immobilized to be transported to the hospital. It was uncomfortable due to the length of the trip to the proper facilities, but once he was there and released from the backboard he felt better, if a little sore.

It was quite awhile before James could see Richard again. He'd been given x-rays and CAT scans, poked and prodded, and while he appreciated the concern and the necessity of doing it all, Richard was becoming a bit fidgety, especially since he wanted James to be with him. As it was, by the time all the tests were done and James as his spouse handled all the paperwork and insurance, not to mention keeping everyone back home appraised, it was late afternoon and Richard was lightly dozing in his room.

James entered quietly and walked over to the bed. Bending down, he lightly kissed Richard's forehead. Slowly Richard's eyes fluttered open and he smiled with joy. There had been few moments in James' life that brought more comfort than when his husband was lying in a hospital bed, opening his dark eyes, and recognizing him fully. "Hi," James whispered.

"My beautiful man," Richard sighed, reaching up and caressing his cheek. "Are you okay?"

"I am now," James answered. "What about you?"

"A bit of Road Rash," Richard answered, "and a sprained wrist. Not bad for a motorbike accident." He paused. "The bike's a wreck, isn't it?"

"Putting it mildly," James told him. "We'll have to replace it. But we'll have some time. The doctor is saying you need to stick around a few days and rest after you get out, which should be tomorrow. Are you sore?" Richard nodded. "Good thing you're ordered to take long soaks in the tub." James turned serious, sitting on the bed and taking Richard's hands. "I thought you were gone," he finally said. "I was over the top of the hill, waiting for you. I saw the other vehicle go over the hill. Then I saw the flashing lights, Richard. I saw them. There was an Interdimensional Window right there, I knew it. Then I heard the crash. I came back expecting you to be....gone..."

"I _was_ gone, James," Richard replied after a moment. "And it was just like how Wilson and the others at Jodrell Bank described it. I lived an entire other life and didn't remember this one. I was married, I had children, and grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren. But there was always something about you there...I always believed there was something more between us than friendship. And when you died there it left such a void in my life, though we were only mates. And then one night, when I was a very old man, the Window came for me again. I saw you on the other side. And that's when I knew. " He fell silent.

"Knew what?" James asked after a moment.

"I...understood everything, James," Richard answered, a serene smile playing on his face. "I was coming back to you. I knew why it felt so different between us there, because I was remembering who I was supposed to be with here, and that's you. And when the time comes, which I pray won't be for awhile, the Interdimensional Window will be back. The Universe knew even though I was happy here, that Richard Hammond was supposed to be there, living a full life of love and joy. And....The Universe? God? Whomever? Wants me to keep living in love and joy. And when the time comes, I'm going to step through another window and I will be somewhere else. And I pray somehow you will be there, waiting for me." Richard reached over and softly kissed James , feeling James lovingly wrap his arms around his waist. "I love you." He felt James sigh. "What is it, Love?" He asked.

"Can you--can....can the Interdimensional Window take you back there again?" James asked. "Can I just wake up tomorrow morning and realize the other Richard is in your place? And you're simply back there trapped in those memories again? "

"No," Richard answered. "I lived that life, and I have a feeling the other Richard who I switched with lived his life here, though I came back to this exact moment. I am here, and I think I shall live this life, however it is. And with you I shall live it in happiness, as long as you want me. My life is the present and the future now."

James looked at Richard gravely. "You shall always have me," he said, his voice dark and low. "I belong to you, now and always."

Richard pulled James into a hug, in spite of his sore body, resting his head on James' chest as James rest his head on Richard's shoulder. This was now and always, it was forever, it was eternity. There were multiple lives to live, stretching so far Richard couldn't see them. Once he had lived this life, feeling the love and joy surrounding him, another Interdimensional Window would be waiting for him to step through. With any luck he would find that happiness with another James. He'd have another Jeremy as his partner in crime, another Andy with the genius to guide him. 

For now he had the present. He had James. "Now and always," he whispered.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this. I want to say I had a great experience writing this story, but right now I simply feel drained. I am writing a couple of new things but nowhere near posting. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and comments are always appreciated.


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